


One of those nights

by justmeandmysillystuff



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alcohol, Awkward Encounters, Falling In Love, Lots of dancing, M/M, Making Out, Please believe me, This makes sense, ok not really someone help him, overcoming depression, school counselor!Viktor, sex...coming soon, there's skating at some point, they still have the same age gap tho, viktor to the rescue, yes you heard me, yuuri being a little slut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-25
Updated: 2017-05-24
Packaged: 2018-09-19 19:57:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 129,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9458171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justmeandmysillystuff/pseuds/justmeandmysillystuff
Summary: One of those nights, Yuuri meets him by accident. One of those weeks, he gets into his life. One of those months, he realizes he may be falling in love. One of those years, becomes the best of his life.Adolescence is hard for everyone, especially when you go through it alone. Yuuri may not have found the best way to deal with it, to be honest. The problem about drinking to forget is that you don't chose what you get to remember, and Yuuri just wishes wholeheartedly he could at least remember the face of the first person to care about him.One of those nights, Yuuri meets him by accident.Three weeks later, he meets him again.





	1. Don't drink under the effects of school

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there!
> 
> Please don't judge me, the story gets much emotional and deeper, I swear. 
> 
> I decided to never really mention the story's location, since there are so many characters from all around the world and I just couldn't chose! So you may notice a weird mix with cultures and laws and currencies that you'll have to forgive. FOR THE SAKE OF THE PLOT...and my sanity, maybe.

Being a grown-up sucked.  
  
No, no no no no. He wasn't a grown-up. No. Not just yet. He was just 23. Yes, a fresh, beautiful, young man going through his late-adolescence. Midlife crisis? What's that? There was no way such a juvenile, successful Communications graduate could be going through a midlife crisis.  
  
Of course not.  
  
Leaving his hometown had nothing to do with it. Totally not. Nor turning down all the job opportunities the city had to offer. Nope. And breaking up with his previous boyfriend was a completely different matter. Yeah. Those were totally coherent, clever life choices. He wasn't desperate, he wasn't depressed, and for the love of all that's holy, his hair was definitely NOT thinning.  
  
Midlife crisis? More like "I'm Viktor Nikiforov, I'm 23 years old, I just got out of college and I don't know what to do with my meaningless existence"  
  
It wasn't that bad, honestly. He was just bored.  
  
All his life he had been rewarded and applauded for being a rich man's kid. Everything he ever did was "perfect, master" or "as expected from a Nikiforov". Even his food messes as a baby were considered a piece of art, and he was done with it.  
  
So he finished his studies quite quickly (the fact he was rich and pampered didn't mean he was stupid), grabbed his car keys and his poodle, and decided to leave that damned town and try luck somewhere else. Somewhere his achievements were his and only his, somewhere he could do stuff all by himself, somewhere he could actually feel surprised.  
  
He wanted a challenge, a new beginning and...who knows? Maybe a bit of adventure.  
  
And that small apartment, crumpled between the suburbs of an ordinary city way too far away from home, felt like it could be the right place…despite certain inconveniences.  
  
"Can you repeat again the reason for this phone call, please?"  
  
"I don't know how to turn on the stove" Viktor answered the same question for what he thought was the twelfth time, as he stood quite confusedly and purposelessly in the middle of his new kitchen.  
  
"Please, say it again. But this time try not to sound so stupid. It hurts."  
  
"Uncle Yakov!" he whined, clearly offended "you are not being helpful!"  
  
"You are 23, Viktor! For fucks sake!" he could literally feel the man's frowned brow over the phone, so wrinkly and scary, it made him seem older than he already was "How do you pretend to take care of yourself if you can't even use an oven!"  
  
"You are hurting my feelings"  
  
"Goodbye, Viktor..."  
  
"Nononono wait!! I need another favor!" he begged, clenching at the phone as if he were grabbing his uncle to stay "please"  
  
The older man sighed, unable to conceal his weakness for Vitya.  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"I need a job"  
  
He was also unable to conceal his desires for murder.  
  
"You want me to get you a job?? I'm a freaking gym coach at a high school, Viktor! I have no links to offer"  
  
"I know, but you are the only person in town I know. Please, Yakov, I'm desperate"  
  
There was a long silence, followed by a sigh, and some muttered insults in Russian the call's interference wouldn't let him understand. But he knew his uncle, he knew he was a man of word, and he knew he couldn't deny a favor to his (totally preferred) nephew.  
  
"Ok, I'll ask around"  
  
"Thank you so much!" Viktor smiled, that dorky heart-shaped smile everyone was always so weak for "I don't want to keep bothering you, goodbye Yakov"  
  
"Bye...oh, and Vitya..." he added, right before he hung up "you have to turn on the gas and then use a match to fire it"  
  
"You are the best, see you!"  
  
Viktor grinned, returning his iphone back to the depths of his pocket and giving the oven a challenging look. Makkachin woke up from his nap to stand by his owner during times of confusion, or at least offer some company, since he couldn't teach him how to properly use a stove.  
  
"It can't be that hard, right Makkachin?"  
  
After three failed attempts and a burnt finger, he decided it was, indeed, that hard.

Yuuri closed the door to his room loud enough to warn his whole neighborhood about his bad mood. In a not very complicated level of door language, that clearly meant “do not disturb”. The only member of the family who got a proper greeting was Vicchan, whose wiggling tail was usually enough to make his owner forget about school for a little while.  
  
But that day, no fluffy welcoming was enough to cheer him up.  
  
In no second his jacket was already discarded on top of his unmade bed and his schoolbag thrown aimlessly on top of his dancing shoes. He didn’t care, he needed new ones anyways. And he didn’t want to add yet another meaningless worry to what had been a crap-load of a day.  
  
Two failed exams, three wedgies, around a thousand spitballs, and an awkward talk with the principal about his bad grades and bad-everything that ended up with an odd pat in the back and the feeling everyone thought he was mentally handicapped or something. He wasn’t mentally handicapped, he was just terribly anxious.  
  
Damn, that must have been the shittiest day of his entire life…or anyone’s life. In fact, it might even have been the shittiest day in the history of shitty days. Of course, who else could be so wretched? No one but him, the majesty of losers, the lord of the dammed, the incarnated god of failure…need any more metaphors? Don’t worry, there are more from where those came from. He kept a list.  
  
Completely miserable and mentally exhausted, he let his body slide downwards against the door to let his legs rest from carrying 67 kg of disappointment all day long. Life was, indeed, horribly tiring. School? Hell. His job? Frustrating. Social life? Error 404 Friends.exe not found. There was no break whatsoever from his self-loathing marathons, that lasted, approximately, 24 hours a day. Pathetic enough? Oh, right. He was also deep and dark in the closet.  
  
Sometimes he felt like his dog was his only company. Yes, it sounds sad, but Vicchan was actually a great friend. Vicchan wouldn’t judge him when he told him about his preferences, Vicchan wouldn’t tell his parents about the constant bruises school usually left on his skin, Vicchan wouldn’t complain about his bad grades and, especially, Vicchan would always be there for him.  
  
Almost as if he had been invoked, the small poodle made his way into the bedroom by scratching at the door with his paw, the oh so secret password his human perfectly understood, and rested his curly head on top of Yuuri’s lap. Immediately, the reward for his affection came in the form of caresses and a soft smile on his owner’s lips. It was the first time Yuuri had smiled that day.  
  
He took a look to his nightstand, where a big glass jar labeled the Shit-o-Meter carried twenty dollars in cash. Basically, he just threw in there the amount of coins he thought equivalent to the amount of shit he went through during the day. And, whenever the jar reached the top, he allowed himself to break his diet and waste it all in junk food. He was getting close, just five more wedgies and he’d taste the chocolate.  
  
How long was he going to last living this way? He didn't know, he didn't want to know. Right then, all he wanted to do, was to forget.  
  
So he let go of Vicchan’s soft fur and stood up, a resigned yet determinate look on his face, and opened his wardrobe's last drawer. The ordinary, least-suspicious drawer he kept his old clothes at. The drawer he knew no one in his family would ever care to open. Right there, hidden beneath a pile of over-stretched sweaters, he found what he was looking for. His favorite shirt.  
  
He had secretly bought it with his birthday-money savings some years ago, way before he even got his job at the ice rink and a proper salary, and he had kept it a secret since then. Why? Let’s just say it wasn't the typical kind of clothing Yuuri would wear at home, nor at school, nor anywhere. In fact, it was the least Yuuri-like clothing possible, and anyone who saw him wearing it, probably wouldn't recognize him.  
  
But that was ok.  
  
He wanted to stop being Yuuri for a little while

With a full wallet and a bandaged finger, Viktor left his apartment in the look for a place to eat. He had plenty of time to learn how to cook…or at least until he ran out of money and eating out became unaffordable. If he didn’t find a job soon he was most certainly going to die from starvation. And so was Makkachin. That was what really kept him awake at night.  
  
Putting those thoughts aside, he plunged his car keys and drove his Audi into basically anywhere.  
  
He literally had no idea of where he was going, it was his first day at this unknown, mysterious city called Hasetsu he had selected at random. All he knew was they didn’t even have proper sports teams, and the fact it was near the seashore. He was actually quite surprised by how modern it was, since he was expecting it to be basically countryside. But it was a normal, urban town, with its nice posh neighborhoods and its dark alleys, just like his hometown. Plus, some of the street’s names were quite funny.  
  
Deciding to try the first folly of his quest, he stopped at a fast food’s drive through to get himself some dinner. What? Was it really that weird he never had a quarter pound with cheese before? He usually preferred his food to stay healthy and served on a proper plate, thank you very much. But he had to admit he definitely saw the appeal in junk food, and he definitely was enjoying his diet transgressions as a rebellious act. God, his father would be so freaked out! He wished his ex was there to…!  
  
He lowered his burger, his appetite suddenly sinking as he realized he was eating in his car alone.  
  
What was he even doing? Was the emotion in his life only limited to disobeying his father’s eating lessons? He felt so empty, so purposeless, and so frickin lonely. Don’t get it wrong, he didn’t lament having breaking up with his ex. That was actually the first action he took as soon as he realized he wanted a change in his life. It hadn’t even been a harsh breakup, to be honest; both of them knew the spark had been long gone. And although it was painful to say goodbye to someone you had loved so strongly before, it was obvious it wasn’t the same anymore. It had been four months since they decided to break apart, and honestly he hadn’t really missed him ever since he got through the first week’s melancholy.  
  
What he really missed though, was having someone to talk to.  
  
Someone he could have adventures and jokes with. Someone, who made him feel like he wasn’t just slowly and purposelessly walking towards his tomb. Someone, who would sit with him in that car right then and laugh and say “You are so special, Viktor”.  
  
He swallowed the last bite of his burger and turned on the engine. He was not going to let himself cry alone inside his car like some teenage girl in a movie.  
  
Turning round an unlit corner, he found himself driving through some pretty quiet street, with simple, humble houses, and traffic lights that didn’t even work during late hours. It didn’t look much like a commercial district, it was mostly residences and occasional closed coffee shops waiting for their opening hours. What time was it even? 2 AM? Of course he wouldn’t find any kind of open shop.  
  
What did manage to catch his attention though, hidden beneath the general gloominess and the thousand leaves of a bindweed, was a rather large building with a sign that read “The Ice Castle”. An ice rink, how interesting. He better kept that fact in mind.  
  
When he was about to give up on his quest, however, the seemingly calm and gentle neighborhood turned not so calm and gentle with the appearance of more and more people dressed in open shirts and short skirts.  
  
The sound of high heels and drunken giggles potentiating, acting like some kind of party radar that took him and his fancy car to a not so far blocked street, filled to the brim with nightclubs and pubs.  
  
He lowered the car's speed, fearing he would maybe miss a detail, or that maybe he'll run over some drunken teenager. What was that place even? It looked strident, so underground, he loved it. Back at his old town there were lots of places like this one, but never so striking, never so wild and loud. There were pubs and bars that played so many different music styles it was driving him sort of mad. Punk, popish, indie...there was a kind to fit every taste. And yet, Viktor didn't feel the appeal in any of them.  
  
Or that was until he saw that huge neon sign that read "-THE MADMEN CAGE- gay bar" on a crazy cursive font and he just HAD to stop his car.  
  
He hadn't been into a gay bar for what...two years? Ever since he got himself a boyfriend he didn't find the need. But right then, it looked as tempting as ever.  
  
After parking about three blocks away (he was not going to let his beautiful Audi at the mercy of that wilderness, no way in hell. And there was probably no place anyways) he got out of the car and pulled off his natural, seductive charm that, even though he was a little been older than average, it made him fit perfectly well. After all, he was very attractive, and hell he was aware of it. He wasn't really in the mood for a hookup honestly, but maybe a drink and some laughs would help to loosen up his soul.  
  
As soon as he laid a foot inside the nightclub, he remembered the true reason why he had stopped visiting those kinds of places: He couldn’t breathe. It was CROWDED, way too many people were fitted and squished into a way too small lot and air was running short for so many exhausted, partying lungs. The setting was retro and shady, yet savage, rocking some really odd decorations it was hard to see between the waves of dancing bodies and the overall dimness. Only occasionally, when the colorful reflectors aligned and created a proper light beam, he was able to appreciate the details.  
  
The partying, dancing drunkards had conquered most of the room, the bar was small and modest at the left corner, and a murky, narrow hallway to the right indicated that was the way to the toilets. And, right in the middle of the dance floor, a meter high platform elevated some lucky few ones, who were either strong and corpulent or not tipsy enough to trip and fall into the bouncing horde beneath.  
  
Viktor felt adrenaline rumbling his stomach, thrill being too much to digest and keep inside himself. Like some kind of excitement vomit…or not. Maybe a drink would help him swallow it down.  
  
Turning to the black wooden bar, he took a sit and let out a heavy sight. There he was. At a gay bar. About to have a drink. These were all new sensations for him. Or not really, but way too old sensations he had picked up from the dusty attic and polished to exhibit once again on is inner shelve. Yes, that was it. This was the new-old him. The new-old him, that was about to have his well deserved margarita.  
  
One of the bartenders, a long-haired, husky man, turned to the sound of someone sitting as he finished cleaning a beer jug. All Viktor could really tell about him in the darkness was the bright greenish color of his eyes and a card with the name “Celestino” clipped onto his apron.  
  
“What do you want to drink?” He asked, polite yet distant, raising his voice a little bit to be heard above the deafening music.  
  
Viktor asked for his cocktail and watched how the man’s skilled hands prepared it. He would normally go for stronger drinks, not even pure vodka was enough to set him wild sometimes. But this was his first night at the new city, and he wasn’t going to test his luck and end up passed out and naked at an unknown public park. Not again.  
  
His hype, enthusiastic mood was about to deflate due to the effects of boredom, when the DJ made a sudden change of plans and played a very popular song. As expected, it had every fan in the crowd screaming the lyrics at the top of their lungs, but together with the cheering also came a wave of catcalls and clapping.  
  
What was going on? Viktor was confused when people were suddenly gathering around the main platform and fighting for a place on top. What could possibly cause such a commotion? He didn’t understand…until he saw it.  
  
Until he saw _him_ .  
  
His movements were smooth yet unbearably sensual, the rhythmic sway of his hips hypnotizing and yet too hard to bear for anyone who glanced for too long. Mesmerizing, it caught as many eyes as the moon and blinded as much as the sun. A dangerous, double edged body with all the curves and the firmness in all the right places and oh, that occasional tongue daring to wet those tempting lips.  
  
He was a deadly weapon, a merciless drunken killer. With lidded eyes and way too much alcohol in blood, he had winded up half the public, he had made almost every other dance move feel bland and obsolete, and he had given Viktor Nikiforov a newfound thirst no margarita could appease. Like a god on his pedestal, the young, dark-haired man blessed the floor he danced on to the beat of Animals by Maroon 5.  
  
Viktor was enthralled, watching those illegally hot legs the damn shorts didn’t care to cover properly. Fuck. And what was that shirt even?? It was a black, loose tank top so small it couldn’t even hide that dangerous bellybutton. What were those crystals embroiled on it?? He didn’t care, he loved it. And what’s more, some parts of it were frickin see-through. Someone please go tell that kid it’s rude to go around giving boners to everybody. How disrespectful.  
  
Was that boy even real?  
  
“You must be new here” Celestino caught him drooling over the mysterious dancer, mockingly grabbing him by the jaw and closing his agape mouth “That guy over there, that’s our beautiful Eros”  
  
“Eros?” He didn’t even pretend to look at him as they chatted; his eyes were way too busy already…there was just so much to see.  
  
A random guy, an oh so lucky one to be standing on that same platform, grabbed the hottie from behind and danced their hips together in unison, getting nearer, whispering into his ear. Eros chortled, letting the overachiever try to mimic his impossible rhythm, enjoying the contact anyways. Viktor was boiling. An odd mixture between arousement and jealousy making his cheeks feel warmer than they should.  
  
“He’s a regular here. Comes almost once a week, gets ridiculously drunk, and makes about half the bar grow weak on the knees. But he doesn’t let every shooter score, oh no, he’s exigent” Celestino sneers, giving Viktor his forgotten margarita and turning his eyes to the dance floor “That guy, for example. He’s not having him”  
  
“How would you know?”  
  
“Just watch”  
  
The hungry guy, growing impatient, wandered his hands around what should have been lawfully forbidden places and Eros seemed too gone to even react. However, when his body was suddenly spun and his lips forced into an almost violent kiss, his hand was swift enough to stop their mouths from merging. He pressed a finger to the guy’s rejected lips and shook his head, deviously smiling, and turning back to his dancing without him.  
  
“Wow, harsh” Viktor muttered, covering his mouth to hide what felt like a totally psycho grin.  
  
“Told you, it’s the same thing every night. He must be tired of rejecting at some point” No, he didn’t look like he ever would, he looked so pleased “He usually just chooses one or two fortunate per night and keeps them close, dances and makes out with them, and at 5 o’clock he’s gone. No place to be found”  
  
Viktor took a quick glance at his watch and gulped down all of his drink in one blow. 3 AM, he could do this, he had two hours and he was not going to waste them.  
  
Only one or two privileged per night? That was a challenge he was more than willing to accept.  
  
Without thinking about it twice, he stood up from his seat and left Celestino talking to the air. The crowd that had looked so solid and wild before, was so easily malleable as he rhythmically made his way to the platform, ignoring the drunken comments and the several hands touching improper places as he walked. The music suddenly changed, and a quicker, hotter song started to play. And, of course, Eros couldn’t stay behind the beat. He must have been a dancer of some sort, there was no way he could move like that without professional training. He kept jerking his hips, kneeling, doing that breathtaking thing with his arms that almost caused him to spill his drink more than once. What was he even drinking? Viktor knew he wouldn’t find out if he just stood there.  
  
Determinate (and a bit desperate) he climbed onto the platform with graceful ease, right behind the beauty, and gave him a (totally not hesitant) tap on the shoulder.  
  
Lord, he was even more beautiful when closer. Long lashes, parted lips, and eyes so sparkly with curiosity and mirth that, together with his juvenile features, gave him some kind of bittersweet, innocent look. Cute. He was not only hot, but also unbearably pretty. Viktor almost loses his chill, but kept himself together for the sake of his aim. He was going to earn that guy, and if there was something he had been able to learn from all his years as a teenage playboy, was that guys like him wouldn’t fall for any sweet face or built body. No, not at all. It wasn’t a matter of looks or dance moves. It was a matter of…seduction.  
  
“I would sue this place if I were you” Eros looked at him a bit puzzled, hips never ceasing their luring sway, and tongue blindly fishing for the straw of his mysterious drink “To have their best dancer working all night without paying him a cent? I don’t think that’s fair”  
  
“Oh?” He chortled, looking at him through lidded, drunken eyes “So you think I should charge?”  
  
His voice, damn. So charming, yet rusted by likely screaming at the dance floor.  
  
“Definitely” They had to raise their volume to be heard on top of the music, taking the chance to get nearer by talking directly into each other’s ear “How much would you ask for, though?”  
  
“Well…that depends” He bent riskily closer, letting their bodies be squished together by the mob of people, and speaking to his lips rather than his ears “How much would you pay for me?”  
  
Vodka. It was definitely vodka, he could smell it in his breath. Vodka mixed with some fruit’s juice, he couldn’t really tell which one. Viktor thought he could get drunk on the mere scent.  
  
“Let’s just say I’m glad you are charge-free for tonight” He smirked, running a single finger down his spine and retracting it immediately, testing the waters, earning a sigh for an answer “My bank account is glad too”  
  
Eros laughed (beautifully, as it couldn’t have been any other way), wrapping his arms around the man’s neck and arching his brows. In no second, his hips were back to their natural seesaw, and this time Viktor’s hands were there to follow the motion to their every possible and impossible direction.  
  
“You better enjoy me tonight, then”  
  
Viktor pulled him by the waist and stuck to his body like velcro, making sure he didn't miss a single twist and turn of those hips as they danced together. Eros smirked, grabbing his partner's hand and impatiently chartering it all the way south. How eager. There was sincerely nothing more tempting right then than picking him up and carrying him all the way into a toilet stall. But Viktor knew better than rushing things up, and was enjoying every single step of his "seduction for dummies" improvised plan. He leaned in, slowly, taking the risky path way too close to the mouth. But when Eros closed his eyes and welcomingly parted his lips, Viktor's had taken a detour and were right next to his ear, whispering.  
  
"I'm Viktor" his breath was purposely hot, and he did not miss the light bums forming on the other's damp skin "What's your name?"  
  
The guy bit his lips, frustrated yet playful, like a cat trying to catch a laser pointer. He decided to play the same card, taking his chapped lips to his ear, but adding a personal trait by kissing at his ear shell right before he spoke.  
  
"That's confidential, sir" He stepped away and watched the disappointment curving Viktor's lips, his hands involuntary tightening the hold on his waist.  
  
"Sir?" he teased "I thought we were in better terms"  
  
"Hmm, what made you think that, _Viktor_ ?"  
  
Aaaaand...he was hard.  
  
Eros chuckled, wrapping himself in the other's arms and turning around, rubbing his backside so hard against his crotch he could have caused a fire. Viktor was no longer able to follow his own game, letting his hands wonder yet unblocked levels of his quest and getting way too excited by the noises he earned as a reward.  
  
"You are not a bad dancer yourself, huh?" Eros sighed as the man took the lead, moving him to his will and to fulfill of his own needs.  
  
"Surprised?" Viktor let him rest his head back on his shoulder, never losing his rhythm, not even when his partner stopped to take a sip of his drink.  
  
"Not bad for an old man"  
  
Viktor deadpanned, turning the boy around to stare at him, and frowning as he saw him laughing, way too pleased with himself. Gosh, why did he have to be so beautiful? It was harsh to be harsh!  
  
"Hey! I'm 23!" he barked either way, actually offended, but not really who was he kidding "How old are you, anyways?"  
  
"That, my dear Viktor..." He pressed his forehead onto his, eyes locked and hearts throbbing, as he tangled his clumsy arms around his neck again "...is confidential too"  
  
"I see...are those lips also a private matter of yours then?" Viktor tilted his head, getting ready for the obvious as he whispered against his mouth.  
  
"No" Eros chuckled, tangling his fingers in silver hair "Of course not" he slowly closed his eyes and put no barrier nor objections to the greedy lips now assaulting his mouth.  
  
Grapefruit. It was vodka and grapefruit.  
  
Viktor couldn't hold his instincts any longer and let his primal desires flow. He allowed his hands to wander, explore, run around, climb and tip toe through every part of his body, marking his territory, claiming it his. Eros didn't stay behind, using his free hand to hold and stroke his jaw and his neck, while he continued to dance and rub against Viktor's thighs.  
  
Damn, that boy could kiss. Viktor wasn't used to people fighting him for dominance, not to mention actually winning. And that tongue was so skilled he would have let him do as he pleased for all he cared. But, as a matter of pride, he couldn't permit himself a passive role. So he kissed him harder, pushing his head with his hands to position it just how he wanted, and didn't pull away or slow down until the guy was moaning beneath him. Bingo.  
  
Eros gave in but no out, continuing to tease him with mischievous fingers and gyrating hips. His body, intoxicated by alcohol and poisonous lust, wasn't responding coherently to his will. He kept accidentally pressing his cold glass against the back of Viktor's neck, and if it hadn't been for the hands holding him in place, he probably would have fallen from the platform. But it was ok. It was more than ok.  
  
Meanwhile, Celestino was receiving his pay from a strawberry daiquiri and he rolled his eyes with a knowing smirk as he watched the scene displayed at the dance floor.  
  
"Seems like he found tonight's pray" he said both to the men in the bar and himself, going on with his job, already used to the events.  
  
"Come here" Eros whispered in Viktor's ear, pulling out from the kiss, and taking his hand away from his behind to hold it in his.  
  
Viktor followed, without a single complaint, as the guy guided him through the crowd and towards the toilets with clumsy, drunken movements. For a second, he thought he was taking him to a stall, but was much relieved when he saw him skip the toilets, and walking all the way down the hallway to turn left instead. There, at the end of the way, there was a narrow, neglected emergency exit, crumpled between two walls and out from everyone's field of sight, that seemed no one had used in decades.  
  
Good enough.  
  
Viktor wasted no time in picking him up, pushing him against the closed door, and sucking at his neck like his life depended on it. Eros moaned, yet giggled at the man's obvious want, and wrapped his legs around his waist as they continued to dry hump.  
  
They kept on it for...minutes? Hours? Who knows, who cares. They didn't, they were way too immersed in their making out, oblivious to the world around them, forgetting there were such things as time and space.  
  
"Hey, Viktor..." the guy trailed off, humming at the feeling of heated lips on his throat "Are you going to fuck me now?"  
  
Viktor was too busy sucking at his skin, trying to leave a dark, obvious hickey, and took his good time to reply.  
  
"As much as I would like to do that, you are far too drunk, love. I can't allow myself to do that"  
  
"Oh..." he murmured, confused and tired, but somehow inexplicably content "I see"  
  
"Are you alright?" Viktor asked, seeing he was much less responsive than before.  
  
"Yeah, just tired"  
  
"Do you want to head outside?"  
  
Eros nodded, rubbing his eyes like a tired kid, and getting away from between the man's legs.  
  
Viktor didn't know why, but he suddenly got the feeling he got whenever he looked at his poodle.  
  
He was about to turn around to leave through the main door, but Eros knew better, and unlocked the rusty locks of the emergency exit that headed towards a much quieter street rather than the one of the entrance.  
  
Their ears throbbed, unused to the night's silence, hyperaware of the cars' engines in the distance and the singing of crickets as they stepped away of the loud music. The air was much cooler than when Viktor arrived, or maybe it was his sweat and heated body what was making him cold. Either way, as he was going to put on his jacket, he noticed the other guy was wearing a much thinner t-shirt, and that the alcohol wasn't enough to warm him up.  
  
Right then, thanks to the moonlight, he was able to see him in more detail. He had a round, pretty face, long lashes and the sweetest chocolate eyes. His hair was pushed back with the help of styling gel, but thanks to their heated up business now it kind of stuck everywhere. And his lips were red and swollen, not to mention the burning red love bite now marking his collar...how he was going to hide that Viktor had no idea. All he knew, as he stared at the boy hugging himself for heat, tired eyed and pink nosed, was that he looked incredibly vulnerable.  
  
"Here, have this" he handed him the jacket that had been hanging around his waist the whole time, and devoured the adorable expression the guy outlined at the gesture "you'll catch a cold"  
  
"Oh, thank you" He was way too tired and wasted for polite objections, so he just put it on and gave it a good sniff "Smells like you"  
  
Then he proceeded to try to tie his own shoelaces, but the long sleeves of the jacket made his hands barely visible and the task way too hard for a drunken man.  
  
Viktor swore he hadn't seen something as cute in his entire life.  
  
"Let me help you" he laughed, helping the boy to sit down and doing the job for him.  
  
"Why are you doing this?" Eros asked, turning his head to the side puzzled, and smiling cheekily at the other man "do you have a foot fetish?"  
  
Viktor couldn't help the loud chortle escaping his lips, and took off one of the guy's shoes to tickle him. Immediately, he was rewarded with the purest of laughs.  
  
"What if I do?" he teased, kissing the front of his sore feet like the seductive asshole he was "Just kidding, I just don't want you to trip. You are really drunk"  
  
Eros snickered, staring fondly as the man finished fitting on his shoe, and unable to hold himself as he pressed one finger onto his hairline. Confused, Viktor gazed up at him, only to find him giggling and smiling like a fool.  
  
"You are so special, Viktor"  
  
Before Viktor could acknowledge he might have been about to have a heart attack, an alarm in the guy's phone indicated it was 5AM. Eros stood up immediately, eyes widening with concern, and his dizzy head trying to remember how to go back to his own house.  
  
"I need to go!" he said, once he remembered where he lived "I really have to..."  
  
"Wait!" Viktor grabbed him by the wrist before he could run away "are you going to go all alone? Dressed that way?? This is not a nice neighborhood, do you want me to go with you?"  
  
"No!" he blurted out, ineptly trying to get out of his hold "I...I can! I need to...!"  
  
"Can I pay you a taxi at least?"  
  
"No no no no! Let me goooo!"  
  
He was way too wasted to think logically, apparently. So Viktor just gave a long, tired sigh and let go of the boy's hand.  
  
"Ok, but wait a second" he ordered, giving up on his attempts, and thinking for another plan instead "hand me your phone"  
  
Stranger danger wasn't a thing inside a wasted mind, so without hesitation he was given the device. Viktor opened a secret pocket inside his jacket, the one he had given Eros to wear, and placed the phone inside together with some dollars.  
  
"There, they won't be able to steal it that way" he said next, fishing for something inside his pants' own socket, and taking out an old flier and a pen. He wrote a quick note, put it inside the jacket's front pocket, and closed the zipper tight "give me your hand"  
  
With the nicest of improvised handwritings, he wrote the word POCKET in the back of his hand, and signed it with a quick kiss Eros seemed too altered to even mind.  
  
"Goodbye!" the boy shouted, turning round the corner and disappearing into the night.  
  
Viktor just stood there, watching the streetlight twinkle in the dark, trying to rinse the taste of vodka and grapefruit from his tingling mouth.

"Me? A school counselor? Uncle, have you been eating expired raisins again?"  
  
"That was just once, Viktor!" Yakov screamed to the phone, pinching the bridge of his nose with exasperation "And don't be so picky! You are unemployed and need to take what you can!"  
  
Viktor sugared his attempt of a coffee, and sat down on the sofa to continue with what he thought was a ridiculous conversation. Makkachin, who barely understood his human was in distress, climbed right next to him and offered his soft fur for him to caress. Which was, obviously, pretty much appreciated.  
  
"I know but...a school counselor? What does a counselor even do? And don't I need a psychology degree or something? Yakov, I don't want half of the kids to commit suicide"  
  
"The previous counselor got a better job at another institution and left, classes have barely started, the school is desperate and would hire literally anyone. They don't need you to discuss Oedipus complex with them, they just want someone to be the voice between the kids and the teachers, who will listen to their rants and solve shit, I don't know. I think your degree on Communications will do" Viktor listened carefully, taking a sip of his coffee, and realizing no amount of sugar could conceal the fact it didn't even taste like coffee "Plus, I mentioned you were my nephew and they were really interested. I've worked at that school for years and they trust me enough. Please, don't ruin that trust"  
  
"Me ruining things?" he complained, throwing his coffee down the drain "I don't know what you are talking about"  
  
"Vitya, I'm serious. You can't pretend to get the perfect job when you have just moved in. You are not under your father's wing anymore. Wasn't that the reason you left on the first place?" The old man insisted, not wanting to draw upon his last resource "What would your mother do?"  
  
Viktor froze, those last words having hit too close to home. A home he didn't want to be reminded about. A home he had done his best to escape.  
  
"Ok, uncle, you are right" He finally agreed, forcefully trying to make Mr.Nikiforov sound right in his head "I'll attend the interview, and I'll do my best. Thanks for the opportunity"  
  
"You are welcome, Vitya" He said, as fondly as Viktor had ever heard him, giving one last warning before he hung up "just don't fuck it up"  
  
"Don't worry, I have everything under control"  
  
He ended the phone call and made his way back to the kitchen, trying to figure out how to make some proper coffee. 

3 WEEKS LATER

"Attention, please. Everyone, listen to me" Principal Minako, a young, composed woman, was the head of Hasetsu High School "Please, make silence....I SAID SILENCE YOU USELESS BRATS!"  
  
Ok, maybe not so composed.  
  
Viktor was extremely uncomfortable, standing in front of that youngster crowd that had no interest whatsoever in his existence. Was it necessary to hold an assembly to introduce him to the kids? Well, it wasn't really just for his sake, apparently there were also other announcements that needed to be broadcasted.  
  
"Ok, first of all, spicy meatballs are out of the cafeteria’s menu" a loud, common whine was shared by the students "Don't dare to complain! There were too many cases of diarrhea!"  
  
Was that woman really an educator?? Viktor suddenly didn't feel as disoriented as a counselor.  
  
He had tried to dress nicely for his first day, wearing one of his favorite long coats and black gloves. Now he noticed it wasn't really necessary, since none of the teachers seemed to even try. Everything and everyone looked so neglected. Kids didn't want to be there, teachers didn't want to be there, not even the principal wanted to be there. He would have complaint about how things weren't the same during his days, but: One, he didn't want to sound like an old man. And two, it wasn't really true.  
  
"Next, due to a budget cut, we were forced to cancel our annual visit to the local zoo"  
  
"But I wanted to learn about the lions"  
  
"And I wanted to become a ballerina but life is hard, Guang-Hong!"  
  
The poor first year sat back down at this place, pouting, sort of intimidated. Viktor was starting to think the principal was the main reason those kids needed a counselor on the first place.  
  
“Last but not least, this gentleman is Viktor Nikiforov” 3, 2, 1, action. It was time to act like he gave a shit “He is a well formed Communications graduate, and he’ll be our new counselor. If you have any issue of any kind, you can…”  
  
Viktor turned a deaf ear. At least everyone looked as mediocre as himself. With expectations set so low, there was no place for disappointment. There was no challenge, no real goal, no real job. And that was somehow very much comforting.  
  
Viktor hated it.  
  
Had he really left his hometown, his family, his colleagues…for this? He didn’t want to work by inertia, he wanted to feel some sense of accomplishment, and he wanted excitement. What kind of thrill could he possibly get from a low-budget high school?  
  
Suddenly, as Minako finished her speech and the auditorium was filled with a round of unenthusiastic applause, they were interrupted buy the much louder noise of cymbals and bumping metal at the back of the room. Everyone turned around and the startled silence was replaced by a wave of mocking group laughter. Apparently, some kid had clashed against the school band’s material.  
  
“Silence, everyone!” The principal shushed the mob, trying to hold her own laughter herself.  
  
The poor guy, clumsily standing up from the mess, shrunk his shoulders in shame and ineptly tried to put everything back in place. But the chore seemed way much trickier when he had the whole auditorium watching him fail, and when everyone seemed to laugh at his every movement.  
  
Viktor felt pity, but also inevitable joy. Come on, it was funny. He had been internally praying for something to interrupt that assembly for the last fifteen minutes, and that kid had done it in an award-deserving way. He tried to take a peek, but it was hard with every student gathering around other’s misery like scavenger hyenas. Because, apparently, humiliation is always funny when it’s not you.  
  
He was about to look away and give the guy the dignity of having at least one person in the room not staring at him, until one of the fat-heads of the crowd decided to move… and he was finally able to see him.  
  
Finally able to see him _again_ .  
  
His hair wasn’t pushed back and it had not a single drop of styling gel on it. His eyes, were now framed by a pair of blue glasses. The sexy embroiled, see-through shirt was replaced by much baggier, longer clothes, and his pants were not nearly as exposing as the shredded shorts. His expression was shaded by embarrassment, and his movements had lost the swagger and the buoyancy only alcohol could provide.  
  
But it was him. It was absolutely him.  
  
There was no way Viktor could ever forget that face, those hips, those lips. Even under the school-boy masquerade, Viktor could never overlook Eros.  
  
“Katsuki!” Minako shouted, pointing at the mess “Late again!? Put that crap away immediately!”

Working at a low-budget, mediocre high school, had suddenly became more interesting than what he had imagined.


	2. Meeting you twice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO AGAIN I BRING YOU MORE IRRESPONSABLE VIKTOR 
> 
> I swear I have nothing against Emile and Michele! They are great! But I needed Football Team Bullies™. I promise they'll be nice in the future! They have their own reasons

Yuuri woke up the next morning with the most cliché of hangovers...which means it was terrible. His head prayed for an aspirin, his stomach for an antacid, and his sanity for the wetness on his face not to be vomit. Thankfully, it was just drool.

What time was it? Last night was literally blank, all he could really tell was he had gone clubbing again, but it was a supposition, not a memory. I mean, it wasn't that hard to tell when he was wearing that slutty shirt, when his breath tasted like alcohol, and when he had literally fallen asleep on the other side of the bed and on top of the covers.

Well done, Katsuki.

His eyes were dry as hell, he hadn't even bothered to take out his contact lenses before he dropped dead. Maybe that was part of the reason why he was seeing blurry, or maybe be should stop lying to himself and admit he was a drunken disaster.

Sitting up on the bed, he also noticed he had apparently dropped some stuff from his desk on his way in, and that he had forgotten to close the window. Every time he did his escapades, he had to make sure he was back home at 5:30 in the morning. That was the hour in which his parents woke up to get ready for work at the hotel, and he was terrified of being caught. So, logically, his best solution was to program an alarm on his phone and enter back through the window. Apparently something had him in a hurry last night, maybe he missed the alarm, or something retained him, who knows.

All he knew, as he made his way to the bathroom to put on his glasses, was that he was an absolute mess.

I mean, look at him! Look at those dark eye-bags, that nest of a hair, that oversized jacket, that horrible...!

Wait...jacket??

Yes, he was not hallucinating, and he was pretty sure bathroom mirrors did not lie. That was a jacket, a big jacket, someone else's jacket, and he was wearing it. It was black, warm, and it looked expensive...really expensive! Where on earth had he taken that from!? Had he robbed it!?? The last thing he needed right then was a criminal record. Oh gosh oh gosh...what had happened last night? Did he have any reminder on his phone??...most importantly, WHERE THE FUCK WAS HIS PHONE??

Panic, his natural state as a being, had him running around his room in a desperate attempt of a search. And, just when he was about to give up to his tears, he noticed the black inked message now starting to blur on his hand.

"POCKET"

Quickly, with his soul washed by hope, he took his hands to the jacket's front pockets praying he found the device. But became very much confused when he took out a piece of paper instead.

"A flier from McDonnalds??" he almost shouted, frustrated, before noticing the message swiftly scribbled at the back:

_**"Good morning, hope you survive the hangover!"** _

What?

_**"You won't let me go with you, so I just want to make sure you get home safe. Your phone is inside an internal pocket of the jacket"** _

Really?? Where?? There were no internal pockets in that...!

_**"Just check for a socket near the zipper and you'll find it there"** _

Oh...there it was! His phone, his precious phone! He almost kissed it. And what was that? Was that money!?

_**"I also stuffed some dollars in case you get lost and need a cab or something. If not, buy yourself some aspirin, I'm sure you'll need it. Don't worry about the jacket, you can have it.** _

_**Love, V-"** _

Yuuri put down the letter, astonished, only to look at himself in the mirror once again.

Yes, he was a mess. A drunken, pathetic, smelly mess. A stupid mess, an anxious mess, a mess that kept making messes out of everything else. A mess, no one was ever supposed to take care of....

But there it was, the jacket.

The physical, wearable proof of someone thinking about him. There it was, lying on his shoulders.

He sunk his head onto the collar's fabric, giving it a good sniff, engulfing in the nice smell of masculine perfume he found so oddly satisfying. Someone, someone who smelt like that...had worried about him. Something bubbled up inside his stomach, and he was pretty sure it wasn't an ailment.

He stared at his reflection, smiling like a fool, hugging himslef and the jacket around him as he let the smell and warmth take him back to a thousand possible scenarios. 

"Thank you, V" he whispered, closing his eyes with comfort.

What had happened last night? He had no clue. All he knew was that someone had cared and worried about his well-being. And, honestly, that was all he needed to know.

 

 

To say Viktor was obsessed may or may not have been a proper use of the word.

He wasn't a creepy stalker, no way. It wasn't the boy he had become obsessed with, but the feeling of freedom and joy he transmitted...and maybe his smile. But nothing else! 

It wasn't a matter of falling in love, but rather a matter of not falling apart. It had been years since Viktor felt so alive, so careless, and it was all thanks to that boy. He didn't want him, he wanted his formula for a merry life. And, if he could add a bit of that butt to the bill, that would be fantastic.

After that night, Viktor returned to The Madmen Cage quite frequently, wanting to replay the events. But no matter how many margaritas or, eventually, vodka shots he had...it wasn't the same without Eros.

His visits weren't in vain though, he managed to get pretty interesting information from Celestino. He said the kid had started clubbing there almost two years ago, that he showed an obviously fake ID, but that everyone was rather way too fond or too attracted to him to deny him a drink...or two...or fifteen.

He was, apparently, always very polite to everyone. And almost never spoke a word until he had had a few drinks. Only Celestino, sometimes, had managed to establish a proper conversation with sober-him. But he was ridiculously cautious about not giving any kind of personal information, which was painfully intriguing.

Viktor couldn't do anything but wonder and ask himself over and over again:

Who was that boy?

 

 

"Katsuki!" Minako shouted, pointing at the mess “Late again!? Put that crap away immediately!”

Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

How long had it taken him to screw shit up? 5 minutes? That was surely some kind of record. Monday, first hour in the morning, and he already had the entirety of the student body laughing at his sorry ass.

Apparently, Satan was bored that morning and decided to stop his alarm from going off, and Yuuri had to learn how to drink his orange juice and wash his teeth all at the same time. Then, the train seemed to have a delay, so he had to run all the way to school. And when he thought he'd be safe and sound at the mental graveyard that was his math class...he found out there was a meeting at the auditorium.

The hurry made him forget clumsy people weren't supposed to run in crowded places. And, effectively, he had tripped over a trombone...and a piano...and a full set of drums.

"I'm sorry" he stuttered, barely hearable beneath the group laughter.

"Anyways..." Minako sighed trying to go on with the assembly and finish for once and for all. She turned to Viktor, who was pretty much mesmerized staring at the clumsy boy, and offered him the microphone "would you like to say some words?"

Viktor almost, ALMOST, stuttered. He almost broke that perfect, unflawed aura that always surrounded him, and almost spoiled his first impression as the charming, too-good-for-you man he always was so eager to give.

Almost.

"Thank you, principal Minako, but I think you already mentioned every detail of relevance" he smiled, his lethal heart-shaped weapon, and about every girl in the crowd let out a pleased sigh...even Minako "Have a good day, everyone"

Yuuri turned at the sound of such a deep, sensual voice, stopping middle track his attempts on making the flute look like a flute again, and his eyes widened at the sight.

The eye contact was acute, painful, but extremely quick. Like the pinch of a needle, that vaccine the doctor keeps telling you "it won't hurt". Well yeah, it hurt. But it was over so quickly, with the two of them immediately looking the other way...and there was no consolation lolly.

Why did he sound so familiar? He didn't want to keep staring in case they thought he was a creep or something. Being the awkward-inept kind of guy had the inevitable disadvantage of everyone always expecting the worse out of him, which meant his every action could be interpreted as the most scandalous possible one.

But he was sure he had seen that face somewhere before.

Only he couldn't remember where.

 

 

_Ok Viktor, this isn't the time to panic. No, it's fine, everyrhing is fine. You saw that face, you totally saw it. He immediately looked away, he probably isn't interested in something happening between us....WHY?? Am I not good enough for you, Eros??? Ok, calm down calm down...don't lose your chill. That's fine, it's better that way. Yeah, it's better he's not interested. That way I won't lose my job, and that way everything will be much easier. What if he is underage??? Oh fuck he totally is underage, I’m such a pedophile! Nonono, stop that, stoP PANICKING NIKIFOROV. No one needs to know...yeah, no one will know. There's no way they found out about the dancing...or the heated up kissing...or touching his...STOP. I just need to talk to him, composed, like a normal human being. THAT'S IT. Yes, that will do. We just need to talk, sort things out, and go on with our lives. It's not that hard. Yeah, it's easy. Stupid head you always make a fuss out of everything. Why worry when it's just so simple? I'll look for him during recess, I'll approach him gently, and tell him we should forget about what happened. Easy as that. Why was I even worried? I have everything under control..._

 

 

Yuuri left his History class with one of those heavy headaches you get after an overload of information. Like some kind of learning brain-freeze, only without the satisfaction of ice cream. He was tired, he had spent the whole night trying to study for his next Biology exam but the information just wouldn't sink in. Was he stupid? Why couldn't he properly concentrate?

He always tried his best, listened to every class, studied for hours...but the information wouldn't rub on him. Words inside his head made no sense whatsoever, they became this letter-mess that had no meaning nor purpose and it drove him insane. He seriously needed to learn how to pay attention to his own thoughts in order to study. But it was difficult when he was trying so hard to do the exact opposite during the rest of the day.

He let out a deep breath, walking towards his locker to grab his books for his following class.

However, as his short-sighted eyes tried to decipher the way too small numbers of the lock, he felt someone grabbing him by the shoulders and forcefully turning him around.

He involuntarily closed his eyes, expecting it to be Michele, Emile or anyone from the football team asking him for money or plainly wanting to bother. But the voice he heard afterwards, as he was constantly shaken from his sweatshirt, was in no way was he was expecting.

"Listen to me kid, we need to forget about everything, ok!?? I promise not to say a word about the fake ID if you keep silent! No one needs to know, you hear me!? Does anyone else know!?? 

What the…?

Yuuri just listened, baffled, incapable of saying a word. It was difficult to talk when you were being violently jerked by the shoulders and when there didn’t seem to be room for your voice in the conversation. Wasn’t that the same man he saw at the auditorium earlier that day?? Who the fuck was him?? What did he want?? 

“Excuse me, I…”

“Oh gosh, are you aware of the consequences?? Are you aware??? LET’S HANDLE THIS LIKE RESPONSIBLE ADULTS!!! I DON’T WANT ANYONE TO GO TO JAIL! AND I-” 

“I DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU ARE TALKING ABOUT!!” Yuuri blurted out; frustrated and confused to no end, trying to make the other shut up…they were making a scene! Thankfully, they were at one of the ends of the hallway and there weren’t many people around. Plus, teenagers have way too many problem to care about someone else’s, right? 

“WELL OF COURSE I’M TALKING ABOUT THE MADMEN CAGE??” The man asserted, as if it were the obvious, pinching the bridge of his nose with exasperation “DO YOU HAVE AN IDEA OF WHAT WILL HAPPEN IF…”

“Oh my god no” Only then, at the sound of the other’s breathless, sobbing voice, Viktor was able to stop his panicked rant and pay attention to the boy “You saw me at the bar!?”

Viktor nodded, puzzled, watching the poor kid’s face morph in horror.

“I’m the new counselor” He added, trying to mend the brute introduction “Don’t you remember the…?” 

“Oh no, please no! Please don’t tell anyone I..!” Yuuri started to hyperventilate, covering his mouth as he walked backwards and away from him, eyes so wide they were almost too big for his glasses “I don’t know when you…what you…! I just want you to…!” He couldn’t even finish a sentence, stumbling upon his own words at the verge of tears “Please…please don’t tell my parents. It’d break them… I just…!”

Viktor was speechless, unblinking, staring at the panicking boy. Had he…forgotten?? Didn’t he remember anything at all?? Well then, problem solved! But…HOW DID HE STOP THE KID FROM CRYING NOW??

There was the bell, indicating everyone should go back to class. But Yuuri wasn’t walking, Yuuri was trembling. And Viktor had never felt as terrible in his entire life.

“Hey, uhm, calm down, listen” He tried to touch his shoulder, but Yuuri immediately flinched. Oh, right, he surely didn’t remember those hands touched much further than his shoulders… “I won’t tell anyone about it, please calm down” 

“Uh??”

“You heard me, I’m not here to tell you off I’m here to…” Ok, he had run out of ideas. What was it that he was supposed to be doing?? Oh, right, he was the counselor… “I’m here to advise you!”

“To advise me?” He seemed to be a bit calmer, yet still fretful, as he tried to catch his breath. 

“Yes! I…I don’t want you to keep drinking that way, young man!” He was unable to believe his pathetic self “It’s unhealthy! And don’t even get me started on sexu…”

“Oh god please don’t go in there!” Yuuri begged, grabbing his head with distress “I just…what do you want me to do?”

That, in fact, was an excellent question…What did Viktor want him to do??

Shit, he never thought he’d get this far into the farce. He thought he’d be in prison by then!

“Nothing”

What?

“Nothing?”

“Just…don’t do it anymore” He knew he was being the worst professional ever but…hey! Who was him to judge the kid’s habits? At his own senior year, Viktor had already gotten himself drunk a thousand times. Plus, he seemed harmless. He just danced around, and Celestino never mentioned anything about severe overdoses or anything so… “I know kids your age can be real fond of nightclubs, and I have no objections about that. But using fake IDs is no joking matter” 

To be honest, he had no real clue on what to do. What were his options? Telling the authorities? With the risk of someone finding out about what happened between them and losing his job? No way jose!

“Oh” Yuuri let out a long, tense breath, finally beginning to soothe his nerves. It was still weird and uncomfortable for someone to know about his adventures at The Madmen Cage, but the man didn’t seem very serious to do something about it. No one ever did. “Thanks for the silence”

“You’re welcome….uhm” He realized he hadn’t even caught his name “What’s your name?”

“Yuuri” He whispered shyly “Katsuki Yuuri”

Yuuri…such a sweet name

“Well, Yuuri, I’m Viktor Nikivorov. See you at my office if you need anything” Did he have an office? He wished he had an office. If not he’d seem like a total idiot “Now, go back to your class”

And so he left the boy behind, walking kind of purposely fast, escaping the first witness to his lack of professionalism. But still, he somehow couldn’t run away from those big, innocent, brown eyes. 

Just like Eros’, they were already burnt into his mind.

 

 

He discovered he did, in fact, have an office. 

It was small and ugly, and it still had some old crap from the previous counselor inside the desk’s drawers. But it was an office at least. Viktor made himself comfortable, sitting down on the chair, and looking around for any clue on how to actually do his job.

Inside one of the drawers, he found a little manual titled "Counseling for Dummies" covered on spider webs. Apparently, the previous counselor was just as lost. The layer of dust was thicker than the book itself, so he used some tissue to clean in before opening it up.

THREE MOST IMPORTANT "NOTS" OF COUNSELING

How convenient.

_**1) DO NOT JUDGE THE CLIENT  
They came to you for support, feeling any hints of rejection or misinterpretation of their behavior may cause them to walk away.** _

_**2)DO NOT TELL THEM ABOUT YOUR PERSONAL LIFE  
Personal information will break the counselor-client professional joint, meaning the client may attribute some of your answers or interpretations to some aspect of your life, instead of considering it the word of an expert.** _

_**3)DO NOT GET EMOTIONALLY ATTACHED  
Your own feelings for the client may interfere in your opinion as a professional.** _

_**To read about these in detail you may skip to the page...** _

Boooooring.

That seemed easy as pie. Where was the real important data??

He kept skimming through the pages, in the search for something he could actually found useful, until a red, big title called his attention:

_**SIGNS ONE MAY BE THINKING ABOUT SUICIDE.** _

wow, juicy. That seemed important enough

_**1) DEPRESSION  
People who have clinical depression are the most likely to engage in... ** _

Really? Never could have imagined.

_**2)SUBSTANCE ADDICTION  
People under the effects of drugs or alcohol may... ** _

Youth is wild nowadays, you really wouldn't be able to tell. Next...

_**3)TALKING ABOUT DEATH  
Kids who... ** _

No shit Sherlock.

He was about to turn the page again, scoffing at the ridiculousness, when he caught a glance of numer 4.

_**4) SUDDEN CHANGES IN APPEARANCE** _

His breath got caught in his throat.

_**Depressed people sometimes attempt a change by drastically changing (or sometimes, neglecting) their physical appearance. Some good examples would be a big tatoo, major haircut, or....** _

He took a hand to his own locks, letting it wonder, feeling them fall way too early into nothingness, missing the silver path that used to take them further on. Whenever he touched it, whenever he felt his own hair, he couldn't help but remember. He didn't like to remember.

"Viktor!"

The loud voice put an abrupt end to his chain of thoughts. He put the book away on his lap and put what he thought it was his best professional face as he saw Minako getting into the room.

"What's the matter?"

"Just came here for two reasons" She announced, closing the door behind her and beginning to skim through some files archived in a drawer "First, I wanted to thank you for joining our institution, and welcome you to our educators family"

"Thank you, Miss" Viktor smiled, about to tell a big fat lie about how it was his pleasure to be there, when he saw her take a hidden key from between the archives.

"And now, back to the important matter..." she ducked, opened a locked hidden compartment inside the desk, and placed a heavy looking something on top of it with a thud "here's the vodka"

"Uh??"

"What? You really thought I could handle this shit-load of kids without some shots?" she took out a glass and poured herself a drink, sitting on the chair in front of him and gulping it bottoms up "Want some? Believe me, you'll need it"

Viktor just stood there, dumbfounded, watching the school's headmaster gulp down shot after shot. But...who was he to deny his boss a drink??

"I didn't take you for a drinker" he chuckled, pouring a bit of vodka for himself.

"Boy, never worked with frickin kids before?? Teenagers are full of problems, man. They rub their damn hormonal misery on you" she leaned on the table, getting way too close to his face, but it was hard to make someone like Viktor uncomfortable "The previous counselor used to help me hide the booze and drank with me. But now she left...what a bitch"

“Can’t imagine why…” He mumbled into his glass as he drank a shot, trying not to sound too sarcastic “Is this what a typical meeting with your boss goes by here?”

Minako chortled, just the right level of tipsy, as she stood up and put the liquor away.

“Only if you keep your mouth shut, handsome” She winked at him, taking a finger to her lips “Now come with me, I’ll show you around the school” 

Viktor shrugged, standing up from his nice new castered chair, and putting the Counseling for Dummies. He didn’t need it, anyways.

He already knew how depression felt and looked like. 

 

 

Nikiforov…Viktor Nikiforov! He knew he had seen that face somewhere else before! Junior champion figure skater Viktor Nikiforov! Yuuri used to be a fan of his when he was a kid…how could he possibly forget?? Actually, he was one of the main reasons he had started ice skating on the first place. He remembered watching some video of him with long hair, skating to some beautiful song, winning the junior championship and wow! He started practicing on his own from that moment on, whenever he had spare time out of school and his dancing lessons. That man had been some kind of muse, his inspiration…and he had to meet him at The Madmen Cage?? Seriously?? It was so embarrassing!

Of all the people on earth, he had to drunk-dance in front of a famous ex-figure skater…and a really attractive one to add! Well done, Yuuri. Keep up the good work.

He finished his last class of the day, already smelling the freedom of the last rotting hours of yet another dreading school day. He still had to work at the Ice Castle for some hours before headed home, but the rink was still a much soothing place than school so he really didn’t mind. Plus, sometimes, he got to skate for a little while after the doors were closed to the public. And to be honest, that was all that pulled him through the day. 

He walked through the hallways a bit paranoid, looking everywhere in case the hot counselor decided to make an appearance and he had to run for the sake of his shame. There was no way he would be able to look at that man in the eye again. So as he passed in front of his office, that lonely door crushed between the lockers, he didn’t take his eyes away from it just in case.

It wasn’t really surprising that, at some point, not looking where he was going would make him bump into someone.

As he fell to the floor (because his balance only seemed to work while he danced, of course) and mumbled a billion thousand apologizes, the owner of the shining-bright animal print boots standing proudly in front didn’t seem as willing to make peace.

“Watch your step, piggy” 

Yuuri looked up, only to be not so kindly greeted by a pair of deep, green eyes. A blonde kid, who couldn’t be anything but a first year, stared at him from above, frowning, way too intimidating for his young age. His ears were pierced from the lobe to the helix, his clothes was mostly black and cooler than any clothes Yuuri ever owned, and on the front of his uncovered forearm, roared the tiger of a colored-ink tattoo. Weren’t first years supposed to be awkward and scared of the oh so big and amazing seniors? Why did this kid looked like he just got out of prison?? 

“Piggy?” he stammered, not even attempting standing up since the floor felt much safer far away from that intimidating gaze. 

“Have you looked at yourself in the mirror, recently?” The guy smirked deviously, and pressed the tip of his own nose to make it look like a pig’s snout. Yuuri took a hand to cover his face, embarrassed “Also I think you may want to start a diet” 

What?? He already had a diet! He used to be overweight before he started to take dancing lessons seriously, and had gotten to quite a respectable, slim weight…was he getting fat again? Well, that kid was surely thinner…but was he really overweight? His cheeks got shame reddened within seconds, as he heard people around the hallway were beginning to stare and laugh at him as well.

_“Have you seen that? Even first years bully him”_

_“Pathetic”_

_“Haha! Look, ballet-boy got wrecked by a kid!”_

Yuuri tried his best not to sulk, not wanting to look even more weak and stupid in front of the underage bully, and pulling the tougher face his feeble personality allowed as he stood up from the ground.

“What’s the matter with you?” He complaint, trying to use the height difference for intimidation but not really succeeding “Who are you, even??” 

“I’m Yuri Plisetsky” He turned around uninterested, hands in pockets, walking away from the messed up scene he had generated “Better watch where you walk next time, piggy. I don’t see any ‘cattle crossing’ signs in the hallway” 

Yuuri clenched his fists, bit his lips, and made his way out of school as soon as possible. Trying not to listen to the foul voices laughing around him, nor the ones screaming inside his head.

 

 

Ahh…mincemeat, hormones and tears…the classic smell of the average school cafeteria.

It brought Viktor some memories, as he got himself something to eat. His second day had been hell. Where teenagers so cranky like…all the time? None of them even dared to step into his office thankfully, apparently visiting the counselor was just for sissies. That gave him more time before someone realized he didn’t know how to do his job. Teachers were the worst though, they seemed to be drained from any kind of life or motivation, like coffee-drinking zombies. Minako spent the whole day working, she apparently didn’t have much time to spend in vodka and dark humored jokes about the students. How long was it going to take him to join the walking dead?

As he paid for his food, and tried to sound as obviously gay as possible for the cafeteria lady to stop flirting with him, he realized he had no place to eat. Wasn’t there a table for teachers or something? Ugh, he didn’t want to share a table with them anyways, they were all either annoying, boring or uncomfortably nosy. Now…where could he sit without getting verbally raped?

Looking around, he caught Yuuri walking around with his own tray, apparently with his same dilemma, since he couldn’t seem to find a proper place. Why so picky, though? There were lots of places together with other students…why didn’t he just sit down already? Viktor debated for a second if he should ask him to sit together, since he was the only person he knew. But then he realized that would have been way too unprofessional even for him.

As he was about to accept his inevitable zombie fate and join other adults on the table, he couldn’t help but notice the fretfulness with which the boy finally chose a place. It was at the back of the room, at an almost empty table, together with some first years who didn’t seem to be over the emo phase just yet. Weren’t other guys his age around? Why wasn’t he eating? He just kept staring at his plate! Come on kid, take a bite! 

The truth was…Yuuri really wasn’t in the mood. It was his favorite day of the month…pork cutlet bowl day!...but somehow he wasn’t hungry. The word “piggy” kept popping inside his mind each time he tried to grab the fork, and he couldn’t bring himself to eat. Maybe he should have grabbed a salad, or maybe nothing at all. He had just wasted his money on useless food.

And, just when he thought he could at least indulge himself by playing with a pack of ketchup, someone’s tall shadow loomed over him like a storm’s first cloud. Oh shit, not again.

“What do you think you are doing, Katskuki?” Michele Crispino, one of his classmates, leaned over the table and took a bite of Yuuri’s food “Weren’t you supposed to buy lunch for me?”

“Take that one if you want” he shrugged, trying to ignore Emile’s laugh “I’m not going to eat it”

“This?” Michele scoffed, pushing the pork cutlet bowl away from him “You think I deserve something you already started eating?”

“No, I didn’t even touch it yet. I just…”

“Oops!” The bowl was not so unintentionally pushed further, way too further and out of the table “My hand slipped”

Before Yuuri could even register what had happen, he felt the sudden ache of boiling hot liquid egg yolk draining down the cloth of his pants. Pain, pain and embarrassment. That’s all he could understand with the maddening laughter of everyone around him.

Viktor stared from the other end of the room, dumbfounded, as the kid cleaned the pork and rice out from his jeans and ran all the way to the toilet, disappearing behind the cafeteria’s door and leaving a trail of food rests and mocking chuckles behind.

What on earth did just happen?? Did that guy really do that _on purpose_?? Viktor used to be very well liked in high school, so he wasn’t very much familiar with that kind of scene. However, he was no stupid, and he had watched enough movies and read sufficient books to know what harassment looked like…and to know the damage it caused. 

He had suddenly lost his appetite too.

He had a feeling Yuuri didn’t have much in common with Eros, after all.

 

 

“Mom? it’s me, Yuuri” 

He was sitting on top of the toilet, pants dirty with egg yolk and hanging from the stall’s door, hugging his own cold legs as he talked through the phone.

“Yeah yeah, everything alright! Just calling to tell you I might get home a bit later than usual today”

His definition of “being alright” was a bit fucked up those days. After all, he had forgotten what being actually alright felt like. His feet were freezing, he had to take off his socks since they somehow got soaked in food too. Damn Michele, that was the aim worth of one of the best football players in school. 

“Why? Oh, the school’s team has a friendly mach with a rival school in some minutes, and some friends of mine want me to stay with them and watch it haha!” It hurt, it truly hurt to laugh “Yeah, yeah mom don’t worry, it won’t be that late and......yes, of course I’ll be back before the last train leaves! We’ll just watch a match! 

Lying had become so painfully natural he didn’t even fear about not keeping his promise. The truth was he couldn’t leave with his clothes being a mess as they were, and he couldn’t take the train naked either. He didn’t know how long it would take for it to at leas dry, so that he could return home without leaking egg yolk. So he wasn’t really sure if he would make it to the station on time.

“Yes, I did bring a coat and…….yes, I know it’s chilly at night haha stop worrying!” He realized how close to a sob that last laugh was, and knew he had to put an end to the call “Hey, I need to leave, the guys are waiting for me…….yeah, talk to you later, bye!” 

e pressed the red button on the screen and let the phone fall on top of his neglected school bag in the corner of the stall. There was a tight knot in his chest, right between the throat and the sternum, like a pharynx contracture he couldn't get rid of. It stung, and it throbbed. It throbbed so arrhytmically with the beating of his tired heart. He felt like he wanted to throw up, but he didn't, it was other thing he needed to expulse. So as he hugged himself for heat and hid his face with shame between his knees, he allowed himself to cry the loss of his dignity once again.

He cried, and cried, and sobbed, and whimpered, and panted until both his eyes and his throat felt like burning and cried some more. Why was he so pathetic?? Why couldn't he stand his ground and tell Michele and Emile to fuck off? He would surely get beaten up if he ever did, because he was a sissy and a weakling. Why didn't he take boxing or MMA classes instead of stupid ballet, like a normal boy would have chosen??

He took off his glasses and hanged them from his sweater, rubbing his sore lids and swallowing spit in an attempt to gulp all of the tears down but it was worthless. He just wanted to disappear from the world for a little while, or maybe forever. He didn't even know anymore.

He took a deep breath, trying to ease the anxious beating of his heart, but a sudden knock on the door got it galloping like a colt in no second. Was there someone out there?? Was it Emile or Michele?? It couldn't be...they had a match in some minutes, they should have been getting ready. So who...?

Before he could let his sanity fall into more unnecessary panic, something was thrown at him from above the stall's door. Pants. A pair of clean pants! They were sort of big for his size, and seemed to be part of a sport team's winter uniform. But still...clean pants! Who did...?

"Hey uhm...you ok in there?" Yuuri deadpanned...was that...? "I got that from the lost and found box, make sure to bring it back tomorrow"

His heart wasn't a colt, it was a stampede.

Oh, gosh. How much had he heard?? Did he hear him crying?? Fuck, it was so embarrassing! First he sees him dancing wasted at a gay bar and now this?? He surely wasn't good at giving first impressions to attractive people.

"Oh, uhm...thanks" he mumbled, trying so hard for his voice not to break. At least, that was something he had become good at.

Viktor sulked at the short response. Was he being too invasive? Has he annoyed?? Was he doing the right thing by helping him? Or should counselors just stay in their offices and wait for the duty to approach? Damn, it was hard.

"Don't worry, just doing my job" Was he? He had no idea. He just wanted an excuse for his presence since, to be honest, he really didn't know why was he there either "Are you...going to get out of there?"

He didn't answer, and Viktor suddenly did understand why he was there: utter guilt.

He felt like he had been a complete egoist asshole with the boy, he only cared about saving his own ass and never really wondered about his wellbeing. Since he looked like such a party animal, he assumed he was popular and happy enough, and that his visits to the nightclub were just a matter of fun but...what if they weren't? What if that was a way of coping? What if he had alcohol problems? Damn, the boy could be depressed for all he knew and he wouldn't have noticed. He really was a terrible counselor.

Just when he was about to knock on the door again, it suddenly opened and Yuuri stepped out wearing the old joggings and carrying his own dirty jeans in hand. He kept staring at the floor, unable to look at him in the eye, as he fidgeted with the hem of his sweater.

"How much did you hear?" he asked, utterly embarrassed, trying to hide his swollen eyes with his hair.

"Enough" Viktor answered, grabbing some tissues and offering them for him to blow his nose "You shouldn't lie to your parents like that...maybe you should ask them for help instead"

Yuuri snorted.

"Yeah, because it's so easy to tell your parents how much of a failure you are" the answer hit him way too close to home, and he could clearly see the point and the struggle the kid was going through "I hate lying to my mom though"

Yuuri sulked at the thought of his mother, waiting for him at home, thinking he was having fun with some friends, and Viktor felt a kick in the pitch of his stomach. To watch him pouting like that, after having memorized the picture of his perfect smile, it was devastating. No matter if his job as the counselor was over for the day, he knew he couldn't leave this boy alone right then.

"So...what if we make sure you didn't just lie to her?" he offered, gently placing a hand on his shoulder, making him rather confused "Do you want to watch the football match with me?"

Yuuri finally looked at him, his reddened eyes slightly widening with disbelief.

Had the school counselor just asked him to watch a match with him??

It was bizarre, really bizarre. And he wasn't really a fan of football, to be honest. But he had nowhere to go. The Ice Castle was closed during Tuesdays and Thursdays, he knew no one he could hang out with, and he had already told his mom he would be out till later. Plus, wasn't his life already a joke?

"Ok" he nodded, putting his glasses back on, and wishing he could take them out again to avoid acknowledging the other's beauty "if it's not a bother for you then..."

"Of course it's not!" Viktor guided him outside of the toilets, holding his shoulder and stroking his back "Come on, let's go! We'll be late!"

 

 

Once Viktor finished buying them some sandwiches (since they hadn't really eat anything after all), he looked for Yuuri who was supposed to be saving them seats on the grandstand. The place was crowded, Viktor couldn't believe teens were so into football those days. There were many girls too, which was different from what he remembered of his high school years. But well, who was him to say football was just for boys? He was a figure skater, after all.

When he found Yuuri in the crowd, sitting right next to an empty place, he let out a sigh of relief. Not only because he was beginning to think he would never find him between all those people, but also because he looked much better. His nose wasn't red or runny anymore, and the only thing making his eyes shiny was pure curiosity as he looked around and took in his surroundings. How cute.

Viktor had to compulsory vanish that last thought from his head.

Sitting down next to him and handing him his sandwich, he didn't miss the slight, thankful smile on his face. Of course, he was the politest person ever, and thanked him for the food like 5 times before he even bought it and 8 after he did. He had gotten him some pork chop sandwich, since apparently he was a fan of pork cutlet bowls.

Yuuri thought it looked delicious, he really did, but when he was about to give the first bite, he felt someone almost tripping over his extended feet.

"I'm really sorry I didn't mean to...!"

"You again, piggy!?" Viktor blinked at the sight of the blond punk, and at the unnecessary aggressiveness in his voice "Told you to stop getting in the fucking way!"

Thankfully he didn't seem to be in the mood to start a fight, and after testing his foul mouth he continued his way and sat far away from them.

"Such a douche" Yuuri grumbled and gave a sorry look to his sandwich, feeling like it suddenly had the word 'piggy' written all over it "he keeps picking on me"

But Viktor didn't listen, he was way too focused on the other guy, watching him sit alone at one of the corners.

_So Lilia's boy is here too, huh?_

**"WELCOME, LADIES AND GENTLEMAN, TO HASETSU HIGH'S STADIUM"**

His chain of thoughts was interrupted by the announcer's voice, way too loud for his liking, but at least things were beginning to move on in that damn field.

Yuuri stared at the sandwich once again, deciding it deserved some courtesy bites, especially since Viktor had kindly paid for it.

**"PLEASE WELCOME WITH A LOUD APPLAUSE TO OUR RIVALS OF THE DAY: THE PLAYERS OF OKU HIGH SCHOOL!"**

Of course, by applause he meant obvious booing, and in no second the majority of the stadium was singing a not so friendly songs about suggestions of where Oku High School could stick the ball at. Their school's anthem started playing when a bunch of players dressed in blue uniforms entered the stadium, and only their few friends at the grandstand applauded together with some other polite local students...like Yuuri.

“AND NOW, THE MOMENT WE’VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR…”

The crowd started to cheer, and Viktor knew the local team was about to get in the field. Finally. But as he got ready for the typical orchestra of a normal school anthem, that wasn’t exactly what started sounding through the speakers: 

_“Now I rule the world  
And the starry sky spreading above....” _

Viktor arched a brow, confused, as an instrumental started playing in the background. He stared at Yuuri, expecting to find the same sort of “what the hell is happening” reaction, but that was not what he saw. Instead the boy was rolling his eyes, crossing his arms and leaning back on his seat, as he whispered a fed up “here we go again” under his breath.

“What’s going on??”

“Something very stupid”

_“I'll never give up even the night should fall_  
_Always do my best  
_ _I look in the mirror the king looks back at me”_

Viktor was about to ask him to be more clear, when one single player dressed on the school’s team’s red uniform, ran into the field beneath a colorful shower of serpentines and confetti. Everyone was clapping, the girls crying, the cheerleaders flying into the air while singing the lyrics by heart, claiming the player’s name and matching him up with the gods. Meanwhile, the man simply ran around, waving, gifting winks and blown kisses, feeding from the ovation. Who the hell was that guy??

_"I can rule the world JJ just follow me_  
_I will break the wall now look at me_  
_Fools or even wise aren't the enemies_  
_This is who I am just remember me"_

Everyone kept singing along, standing from their seats, and screaming even louder when the guy took one of the cheerleaders (his girlfriend, he assumed) from the hand and gave her a long, public kiss that had the crowd roaring and cheering even louder. Viktor was confused to no end…what the fuck was happening??

The music suddenly cut, and the public made silence as the fabulous man with the undercut voiced a loud “STOP!” and the stadium was suddenly mute.

“It’s JJ Style!!!” 

And then, everyone got into an emotional, cheering frenzy once again.

Now, seriously. Who the fuck was that guy?? What the hell was he doing with his hands?? Why was everyone crying!??

“That’s Jean-Jacques Leroy, the quarterback” Yuuri seemed to have taken note of Viktor’s confusion, since he had been pious enough to offer an explanation “Everyone loves him for some reason”

“Ok but…why??” 

To that, Yuuri simply shrugged, giving a third and last bite to the guilt-inducing pork sandwich and setting his eyes back on the field’s folly.

“I don’t know, I’ve been trying to understand the ‘JJ Plague’ for years, but there are no results” 

Viktor chuckled, not really interested when he saw the other players entering the game and taking their places, since there were much more interesting things to pay attention to… sitting on the grandstand, right next to him.

 

 

The match was…meh, okay-ish. Not to say it sucked. After half an hour they both realized none of them was really into football, and decided to make fun of the players instead. Well, not really. Yuuri just pointed at them, and let Viktor know all about the hottest and stupidest rumors, from pregnant girlfriends to corpses inside their lockers. High school was, indeed, wild. 

Viktor, on the other hand, plainly laughed at them. And offered quite a cruel prediction of some of their futures Yuuri couldn’t help but giggle about. They deserved it, anyways. 

Once the event was over, Viktor walked him home, claming he had nothing really better to do, and that it was “his duty as a professional, serious counselor” to make sure he got home safe when he was still under his supervision. There were really no complaints from Yuuri’s side, to be honest, he really appreciated the company and the walk wasn’t really that long. Although he knew the man was probably just doing his job, and that he had no interest in spending time with him whatsoever, it was still nice to have someone by his side as he walked.

Engaging in a small, pleasant talk, Viktor got to know some details about the guy’s life. Like the fact he had a small poodle named Vicchan (Vicchan? Was it the short for something else?), or that he had taken ballet classes since he was four years old but got bored (which kind of explained the magic of Eros’ dancing), and that his parents and sister ran a small hotel in town. 

The more they talked, the more he realized how mistaken he had been the day they met.

He had thought Yuuri was some kind of sex god, a bubbly and crazy party animal who had everyone eating from the palm of his hand. Wrong. He was so wrong. Yuuri was awkward, anxious, and way too hard with himself. His lack of confidence kept making him mess things up, when in reality he could actually do much better. Was he really the same person he met at the dance floor? It seemed witchcraft! At first he was kind of disturbed, but then he learnt the boy was also unbelievably kind and clever, and that when he got passionate about certain conversation topic, gosh, Viktor swore he could listen at him for hours talking about dancing or his dog. 

As he watched him stumble upon every loose floor tile and stopped to pet literally every dog they came across with, he couldn’t help but remember the first rule on his Counseling for Dummies book.

_1)DO NOT JUDGE THE CLIENT_

"So...what brings you to Hasetsu?" Yuuri asked, kicking an innocent pebble through three consecutive blocks already.

"I wanted adventure" Viktor shrugged, acting mysterious and cool, or at least trying.

"And you chose Hasetsu?" he arched a brow "I think you made some mistake"

"Not really, this is all new to me. Never in my life I could have thought I would end up working as a counselor" if he really could call himself one, to be honest "Life is weird"

"I see..." Yuuri made a pause, debating if he should ask him what had just popped inside his head...or rather what had been constantly popping inside his head for the last two days "Do you still practice figure skating?"

Viktor almost forgets how to breathe. So the kid knew who he was?? Why didn't he mention it before??

"Uhm, not really. I mean, I do keep practicing by myself, but not professionally. The day I arrived here I noticed there was a rink called..."

"The Ice Castle! I work there!" He realized he had interrupted him, and shame was never late to arrive "sorry, I got overly excited...but I really like figure skating!"

"Really?" now it was his turn to be surprised "Do you skate?"

"Yeah! Well, no...I mean, not really good but...I try?"

"I would love to see you someday" he said, and Yuuri swore he had never been closer to have cardiorespirstory failure "Who knows...maybe I could even teach you! Do you know any jumps??"

"What?? Oh, uhm...only simple ones but...you don't need to...!"

"Shhh! It's settled! I'll teach you a triple salchow!"

"Eh?? That's way too hard! I could never...!"

"I can still remember when my mother taught me how to do that one" Viktor smiled, looking at the ground instead of creepily just staring at the boy like he had been doing the whole time "I was so young"

"Oh...your mother's a skater? That's so cool!"

He saw no use in correcting the error in tense, as he remembered yet another rule from the manual.

_2)DO NOT TELL THEM ABOUT YOUR PERSONAL LIFE_

"How about you?" he broke the new generated ice, caused by new generated silence "when did you start skating?"

"Some years ago I decided I was done with ballet, but I didn't really want to stop dancing. One of my father's friends asked me if I wanted to work at the Ice Castle and well...I kind of started practicing after my working hours. I must have been around 15, maybe 16 years old"

"Wait...how old are you??"

"I'll be 19 next month, I skipped a school year because of a professional dancing schedule"

THANKS GOD!!!

"I see..." Viktor mumbled, still processing the joy of finding out he wasn't really such a pedophile "You must be a really good dancer then, it's a shame you don't enjoy it anymore"

"Oh, I do enjoy dancing! I love it, actually! I just got tired of so many classes and schedules and stuff...plus I was done with being called "the black swan" at school..."

"That's the coolest fucking nickname ever, if you ask me"

"If you say so..." Yuuri rolled his eyes.

"Hey!! Why don't you show your Eros personality at school?? I'm sure you would be so popular!!"

Yuuri almost chokes on his spit.

"What!??" he screamed, ashamed by the fact the man new his so embarrassing clubbing name “you seriously think being the greatest dancing faggot ever at a gay bar would make me popular?? How long have you been out of high school!??”

“Hey, I’m not that old!!” Viktor recognized the taste of déjà vu in his mouth, especially once he saw the small mocking smirk on the other’s face.

“Well, this is where I live” The boy abruptly announced, pointing at one of all the similar looking houses, and fishing for his keys inside his school bag.

“Oh” Really? Did they already walk that much!? “I guess I see you tomorrow at school, then” 

“Yeah, and…” Yuuri turned around one last time, as he walked into the porch and opened the door, to gift him the gentlest and sweetest of smiles that made the butterflies inside Viktor’s stomach grow stings and turn into wasps “Thank you…for everything” 

He mumbled his last gratitude before he disappeared inside the house, leaving the other man standing alone in the middle of the street as the night fell upon the suburbs of Hasetsu city.

In that moment, as he walked down the road and back to his own neighborhood, kicking the same pebble Yuuri had brought all the way down there, Viktor realized he really must have been the worst counselor ever. 

_3)DO NOT GET EMOTIONALLY ATTACHED_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for taking so long at writing this shit. 
> 
> Please tell me your thoughts! It's always helpful!


	3. The perks of actually doing your job

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for taking so long! My laptop basically exploded and I depend on my phone now.  
> Also, please have patience, this gets better...and gayer...and Viktor actually learns how to properly do his job.

"Katsuki?" Yakov asked, absent-mindedly, taking notes of the first year students' performance as they went through an impossible obstacle course "Yuuri Katsuki?"

"Yes! That's him" Viktor nodded vigorously

"Why the interest in him?"

"Uhmm...counseling reasons?"

Yakov was about to rant on how unbelievably suspicious that sounded, but turned to shout at some students for not doing shit instead.

"De la Iglesia! You are supposed to jump the thing, not pin it down like the girlfriend you'll never have!"

Viktor blinked, unused to Yakov's aggressions being directed to anyone rather than him.

"I swear I don't know what you are up to, Vitya..." the old man sighed, pinching the already formed fingerprints at the bridge of his nose (courtesy of his nephew's constant misdeeds) and stared at him with distrust "Katsuki is a good athlete. He lacks strength and sports knowledge, but he's really flexible and has lots of stamina"

"Uh? I don't care about that! I want other info!"

"What the hell were you expecting, Viktor?? I'm his gym coach, not his mother!" he interrupted his screaming with more screaming, as he pointed at a random kid who was silently reading in the corner "LEE PUT DOWN THAT BOOK IF IT'S NOT ABOUT HOW TO STOP BEING A LAZY ASS"

Viktor pouted, disappointed, as he saw his uncle writing down awful marks for his awful students.

"Yeah I know but...isn't there anything else? Like, what's his relationship with other students and stuff"

"Relationships?" Yakov scoffed "The kid's always alone. He's always the last one to be chosen at every dodgeball game, and no one ever helps him stretch...not that he needs any help, that kid could be made out of rubber for all I know"

"Hmm, I see..." Viktor took a finger to his lips, trying to stop himself from visualising a stretching Eros.

"Oh, he also gains weight rather easily. He was especially fat during his first years, but I guess he must have gotten a diet and a good routine...I don't know if that's relevant..."

"It is!" he exclaimed, thankful "I knew I could count on you"

"Vitya, I don't know what are you up to, but if you fuck up my job I swear I'll..." 

Before he could engage in a very detailed description of murder, he was cut off by the thud of the heavy gymnasium's door being abruptly opened. The frightening, classy march of a bright pair of pink sneakers had every student in the room frozen with fear-induced respect.

Whoever said the devil wore prada, was horribly mistaken. Every single time Viktor stared at that woman he could confirm, without hesitation, that it definitely wore adidas.

"Get out of here, Yakov" ordered a very much intimidating lady, dressed in gym clothes, and wearing a tight bun that looked like it might rip off the skin of her skull at any second "it's time for my girls to use the gymnasium"

Yakov stood his ground, red face and frowned brow, preparing his scary index finger to play the classy angry old man role that always worked so well. But when his lungs were already filled with air and his mouth with the perfect speech, he was interrupted once again. This time, courtesy of his lovely nephew.

"Lilia!" he shouted merrily, waving at her like she never got divorced to his uncle, who was still standing right next to him and not very pleased with the situation at all "Long time no see!"

"Greetings, Viktor, it's nice to see you" a head bow was the closest to affection she seemed to be able to get "I wish I could say the same about you, Yakov. But unfortunately this is the time for MY class, and I don't want to see you here"

"Excuse me?? This is MY time to use the gymnasium!! First period is always mine!!"

"Except on Fridays"

"What are you talking about, woman??"

"See? This is why I left you, Yakov. You have no idea of what you are doing" her tongue was the only thing sharp enough to cut through Yakov's ego "Fridays are for the cheerleaders' practice"

"Who says so??" the man was furious, his wick being way too short to keep him from exploding anytime soon.

"Principal Minako. I'm good at negotiations"

"What?? Bribing the principal with liquor again?? That's a low blow!"

"Do you want to complain? I'm sure she'll be understanding under the effects of Scotch Whiskey"

"You....!" Yakov had to bite his own lips to keep himself from getting fired, since he knew the kids weren't trust-worthy witnesses.

Viktor recognized surrender on the old man's voice, knowing it would take him some time to accept the loss, and thought it the right chance to ask the female coach some information he had been wondering about.

"So, Lilia..." he smiled, always so charming. How could him and Yakov be related, Lilia did not understand "I heard the boy's studying here now...what was his name? Yurio?"

"It's Yuri" she corrected, crossing her arms "And yes, he is. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, nothing. Mere curiosity"

"I heard you are replacing the old counselor. I'm not stupid, Viktor, I know Yuri is quite a hard case to work with. Is he giving you trouble?"

Viktor sighed, accepting he wasn't very good at this whole discretion thing.

"Just some unnecessary aggressiveness" he confessed, remembering the episode with Yuuri at the football match "Nothing really serious yet"

"Please bare with him, he's been through a lot"

"She's right, Vitya" for Yakov to agree with Lilia on something, it had to be dead serious "Give him a break"

"I know, I know" he smiled, trying to at least look like he had a plan "I'll try my best"

"I'm glad to hear that" Lilia smiled too, giving Viktor some sense of fake acknowledgement, before she went back to her solemn self "now...GET OUT OF MY GYMNASIUM"

 

 

After making a quick stop at the cafeteria (since the cook obviously had the hots for him and sometimes gifted him food), Viktor returned to his office eating a squishy, warm croissant.

With two weeks of experience in the bag, the man thought he already had a clear map on how things rolled in there. First of all, his job was a joke. Literally no student wanted to talk to the counselor, they didn't trust him (fortunately) enough to ask for advise, so he spent most of the day in his office alone...except for the occasional visits to Yakov's gymnasium....or those times Minako got done with everyone's shit and shared some shots of her hidden vodka with him.

He had learnt to avoid other teachers like plague, since they could be really annoying and Viktor was way too charming to tell them to fuck off. So he had tried to memorize their schedules, to avoid meeting them in the hallways. By that time, the second period had barely started, so the field was clean for him to make his walk to the office satisfactory and idiot-less. He had everything measured. So he trusted his watch and, as expected, he made it back without any uncomfortable small talk.

What he wasn't expecting though, was funding Yuuri waiting for him outside the office.

He was leaning with his back against the door, hands behind his back, looking absent-mindedly at the floor. What was he doing there? Shouldn't he be in class?

"Yuuri?" Viktor asked softly, making the boy raise his head in surprise, a little bit startled.

"Oh, hi Mr.Nikiforov. I'm sorry to bother, I just..."

"You can call me Viktor, I already told you so" he reminded him, with a tiny hint of worry still lingering in his voice "Is everything ok? What are you doing here?"

"Sorry....my literature teacher sent me here" Yuuri moved aside so that Viktor could open the door, and walked into the office right behind him once he was signalled to get in. It was not his first time in there, actually, he had been sent to the counselor’s way too many times before because of his constant failures...and that time was not an exception "I'm failing her class...and next week we have to give this oral presentations about a book we read and..."

"You are scared of public speaking" Viktor finished his sentence as he sat on his big, spinning chair. The boy nodded "Take a sit, Yuuri. We are going to talk"

Wow, so serious. Well done, Viktor. You sound so professional.

"Talk?"

"Yes, isn't that what counselors do, after all?" Was it?? "Come on, don't be shy"

Yuuri sat down in front of him, fretfully, finding the situation slightly more awkward than with the previous counselor. Mainly, since she hadn't seen him dancing drunk and odd-clothed at a gay bar. Viktor, on the other hand, looked fairly calm. As if he were certain of what he was doing.

"So...why did you start clubbing?" he had not idea of what he was doing.

With such a blunt, sudden question, it was inevitable for the guy to freak out a little. He immediately looked away, the tips of his ears turning a cute shade of pink, as he did his best to answer accurately and without stuttering.

"I...don't really know. It was some years ago but...I can't really remember the reason. I'm sorry"

"Stop apologizing" Viktor ordered, eyes trying to pick up the other's lost gaze from the ground "Is there any kind of reason why you go clubbing? What makes you want to go?"

Yuuri looked so uncomfortable he would have jumped through the window.

"I don't know! It's fun I guess??" he mumbled, actually conflicted "What were YOU going there though??"

Viktor gulped, not being good enough of a liar to get through this shamelessly.

"Uhm, well, I..."

"Are you gay?"

None of them could believe he had just actually asked that question.

There were about ten seconds of silence. Five it took them to realize what he had just said, and other five for both to turn into a flustered mess.

_Oh boy, if you only knew..._

"That's... I'm..." The responsible adult of the pair was now broken and confused and the conversation had basically gone to hell "That's totally off-topic!"

Yuuri entered some sort of panic as he tied to spit an apology through his trembling lips. That, together with his red face, made him look as if he were terribly choking. But the only thing stuck in his throat, were the thousand synonyms of WHY THE FUCK DID I SAY THAT trying to get through his mouth.

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" he desperately waved his hands, wanting to take back his words and cancel them from existence "gosh, I'm so stupid. I didn't mean to say that, I just...!"

"Don't be ashamed" he said, as if he hadn't been considering quitting just two seconds ago "It's just normal you want to know"

Yuuri looked up at him, eyes almost watery with embarrassment.

"It is?"

"Of course it is" Viktor could tell better than anyone "You want to know you are not alone, right? Never forget: you are not"

The guy let out a long, heavy breath he could have been holding for eighteen minutes, or maybe eighteen years. His eyes drifted away from the other's again, as he always did when talking about himself, but this time they looked much gentler, relaxed, and slightly more comfortable.

"I had...never discussed my sexuality with anyone before" he confessed, shrugging shyly. Viktor was the counselor, no matter what he saw at the bar, he should trust him. And he should talk "I don't have any friends who would listen, anyways"

"And your family?" Viktor asked, listening carefully with a hand on his chin.

"My parents are way too busy with work all day...we don't really talk much. And my sister and I are rather distant, we don't really talk much since I entered middle school. We used to be close as kids, but I guess she got tired of me"

"Tired of you? How is that even possible??" When the kid arched a brow, he realized he was being unprofessional "What I mean is...I'm sure they have some time for you. Boy, you need to work on your confidence!"

"Yeah...the previous counselor used to say something alike" he nervously played with his fingernails "she even gave me a book on self-esteem and some ideas to try out but... I don't think I can change, this is who I am"

"A loser and a loner? That's what you think of yourself??"

Yuuri flinched at the strong use of words, but nodded anyways.

"Yeah...I guess"

"Then I'll tell you what we are going to do" Viktor proceeded, leaning over the desk and forcefully injecting the paralyzing blue of his eyes into Yuuri's calm brown "You are going to keep working on it, just like the previous counselor said. BUT, in the meantime, you are going to talk to me"

"Uh?"

"You heard me. From now on, each time you need to talk about anything you'll come to this office. I'll listen to you, and I'll try to help you out. Ok?"

Viktor may have been a terrible counselor, but he wasn't a terrible person. He could see how terribly lonely the boy felt, it was clear as day. He wouldn't be able to make any kind of progress if he lacked that much confidence, there was no use in forcing him to think better of himself if he had no one to help him assimilate it. It was like throwing someone a bunch of bricks without explaining them how to build the house!

Yes, he needed to learn how to deal with his own problems. But no one is supposed to learn alone.

"Ok" Yuuri nodded, voice soft and timid, and Viktor could see the hints of a polite little smile "Thank you, I don't want to be a bother though..."

"Of course you are not" Viktor grinned, trying to look reassuring. But to Yuuri he was so attractive it was rather intimidating "I'm glad to have you here"

Yuuri blushed, looking away again, wishing he could believe on those last words.

"Thank you"

"You are welcome" Viktor clapped his hands, trying to change the gloomy atmosphere "Now, is there anything you want to talk about?"

Was it obvious he was so eager to know about his life? He hoped it wasn't.

"Uhm...my literature presentation?"

"Oh yeah right!" He cleared his throat "Of course...what book are you planning to talk about?"

"The Lord of the Flies" Yuuri said "have you read it?"

"Of course" Lies "One of my favorites" all lies.

"Mine too! I wanted to make an analysis of Piggy's character, I think that would be cool...But I'm scared someone will point out how much he looks like me, and that would be embarrassing"

“Oh, I see…” He made a mental note on buying The Lord of the Flies “Why would they say that though??”

“They had called me a ‘Piggy’ before” Yuuri declared, looking away “Because of the nose…and the fat”

Viktor almost had a stroke.

“Excuse me?? Your nose is like the most adorable thing ever???” He almost stands up from his chair until he realized he was, effectively, still pretending to be a good professional, and his student looked fairly uncomfortable “What I mean is…I can’t see what they mean by that” 

“Well, I have a tendency to gain weight and…”

“You seriously think you are fat??”

Yuuri stiffened, sort of intimidated, trying to guess if it was some kind of trick question.

“Yeah, my classmates often say…”

“Katsuki Yuuri, for the love of god, you are not fat!” Viktor exclaimed, seriously concerned. Was it normal for a counselor to praise a student that much? Probably not, but at that stage he couldn’t care less, to be honest “Remember everyone at the madmen cage thinks you are so attractive and...!”

“Please stop mentioning that already!” The poor boy almost hits his head against the desk on purpose, maybe that way he would forget the shame “Anyways, everyone always comments on my weight, ever since someone posted a picture of younger-fat-me on HasetsuRumorHasIt.net, they won’t stop making jokes”

“What’s HasetsuRumorHasIt.net??” 

Yuuri tilted his head to the side, finding the question too odd and stupid to be even answered. Or was it rhetorical? It took him quite a long wile and many expectant gazes to realize he was serious, and that he was actually waiting for an answer.

“Oh, you really don’t know?? Woah, you are so new to this school” He didn’t even know how to explain it…it was so built-in by then, so natural! Like trying to explain why the sun came out each morning, or why everyone seemed to like JJ. It was impossible “HasetsuRumorHasIt is…this webpage someone created like, two years ago, which posts pictures, audios and videos about people in school. Awkward ones, needless to say. No one knows how the hell they get them but they do, and everyone follows them so it’s terrifyingly viral” 

“Who runs it?” Viktor asked, quite scared, realizing high schoolers were much creepier than he remembered.

“No one knows, but damn, they have so much power. Like, once they posted this video of Michel Crispino eating a hot-dog from the floor and he stopped being popular for like…two full moths! They’re dangerous!” The youngster hid his face behind the sleeves of his sweater, scared of the legend and its mysterious, virtual monster “Fortunately, they only posted about me that one time”

"You don't have to worry about what others say, they are irrelevant” The oh so wise counselor spoke his oh so wise advise “It’s just a stupid webpage”

"It's not that easy" Yuuri sulked "Everyone worries about others' thoughts on them, right? We all have an image we want to give, or someone we want to impress..."

Viktor flinched, feeling like he had let go the rains of the conversation for a second and he was the one being counseled .

"Yes, but you can't let that limit you. You need to learn how to differ the opinions that matter from those that don't" Was being a hypocrite part of counseling? If that's the case, then he was doing a great job "As I said, I think it's all a matter of confidence"

"And how can I get more confident before the literature presentation? I have to talk in front of most of the school!"

Viktor hummed, deep in thought, looking for the most practical, professional way of helping a teenager gain confidence. He had nothing to worry about, he'll surely think of something, and it was definitely going to work out.

 

 

"Viktor this is not going to work out"

Yuuri was trembling from his hair to the tip of his toes, feeling terribly out of place wearing his dancing shoes at school.

"Don't be scared, it's just me watching!" he said from his comfortable sit, far away from the gymnasium's platform where the poor boy was trying to remember how to breathe "If you are such a good dancer, why are you so embarrassed? I already saw you dancing at The Madmen Cage, remember??"

"That makes it even worse!" Yuuri covered his face with both hands, so red he was beginning to camouflage with the velvet curtain behind him "Also...what if someone comes in??"

"There's no chance!" It was a Tuesday's afternoon, they had waited for every student to leave before they made their way into the gymnasium, and prepared the guy to give a small dancing show for one. Viktor thought it would be a good idea, since that platform was the same stage the school used to give announcements and presentations, and ir was really possible Yuuri would have to give his literature oral exam right there "I think there's only janitors left, and maybe principal Minako"

"But...there are some kids who stay at the library sometimes..."

"Yuuri, the library is at the other end of the school"

"What if someone forgot something here and comes back to get it...?"

"You are being paranoid" Viktor rolled his eyes "Plus, would it really be that bad if someone saw you?? I mean, we are working on your confidence after all..."

"I would hide under the volley balls' basket and wait for death to come and get me"

"You are so dramatic" he sighed, grabbing his face with exasperation, while looking for something inside his bag "fortunately, I came prepared"

Yuuri had a bad feeling.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm a skater, Yuuri. Which means I'm a dancer too" The kid looked at him puzzled, not feeling ready to face that man's spontaneity, as he saw him place a CD inside the player "And being a dancer, means I know their weaknesses"

"What are you talking aba-"

Before he could question his logic, Viktor pressed the play button way too proudly, and the first chord to echo through the gymnasium had Yuuri already sweating cold.

_No. Oh no..._

"Is that...?" Yuuri immediately recognized the melody of the famous song On Regards Love: Eros, and his foot started tapping by itself "fuck"

"Fuck yeah" Viktor smirked, gaining quite a disproving glance from the suffering student and seating back on his seat expectantly. Almost like a villain waiting for his evil plan to be executed "Don't hold back, my dear Eros"

"Why are you doing this to me??" the tapping spread to his knees, that were now swinging his body involuntarily to the beat of the music "it's against the rules"

"Which rules?"

"I don't know, but there must be some rule at this school against teachers forcing students to dance dangerously catchy music in front of them"

He began to rhythmically snap his fingers and he knew that was a point of no return. Once he was into a song, there was no turn back. Just like getting bubble gum into your hair and having to cut it off: at that moment Yuuri swore the only thing that could stop him from dancing that song was someone cutting off his limbs.

"Cry me a river" Viktor chuckled, yet kept his expression gentle, careful not to intimidate the boy "Come on, there's nothing to worry about"

Yuuri closed his eyes, forcing himself to breathe, and tyring to erase the other man from his map of existence, as he allowed his body to fall into the music's spell.

Viktor had a wide range of knowledge on dancing. Being a skater, he had taken classes as a kid, and he had always been interested on it in general. He had seen many good dancers, including himself, throughout his life, and he thought he was about to witness yet another diamond in the rough, a trained boy that needed to polish some details to reach technical perfection. After all, he had seen him at the nightclub, and he was perfectly aware of what the kid was capable of.

He had no idea of what the kid was capable of.

He had no idea of how feet could turn into feathers. He had no idea, that solid matter could vaporize into music. He had no idea, that bones could be rubber and souls could be stone. He had no idea metamorphosis happened without cocoons, and he had no idea where the nerdy, cute Yuuri had gone. 

But he was totally certain of something.

That, ladies and gentleman, was the return of his beloved Eros. Now awake and sober enough to show off his potential, and to give Viktor an asthma attack.

Of course he didn't have an asthma attack, that would have been embarrassing, and Viktor didn't do all that "embarrassment" thing.

But he did keep staring with awe, his eyes did wide as if that way he could absorb more of the image, and his pulse did rise until it felt like a buzz.

Was it normal for a heart to beat so fast? That was yet another thing he had no idea of.

Yuuri wasn't even thinking of what he was doing, he had decided it was better to ignore it. He had chosen to shut his eyes and mind to ignore the world around him, and also the scolding voices inside his head. His dancing persona was always much tougher, much more sassy, and more like the person he wanted to be. Eros was careless, charming and assertive. However, right then, he couldn't quite get into character.

_"What do you think you are doing??"_

He gulped, pretending he didn't hear that over the sound of the music, and kept dancing.

_"Are you improvising?? You are ruining everything! What's with your hips?? Are you dancing ballet or doing a striptease?? Make up your mind, you idiot!"_

He knew he shouldn't listen, he knew his anxiety was usually way too proud of its voice, and way too proud of the effect it had on him. He tried to fight against it, to tell those awful whispers to fuck off, but anxiety was also way too proud of its eloquence. Anxiety always won.

_"Oh my god, what if you look fat?? That shirt totally makes you chubbier...your stomach is showing!!"_

One of his hands broke its perfect flow with the rest of his body to slyly tug at his shirt and cover his belly.

_"You just lost the rhythm! Did he notice?? Of course he noticed!! It was so obvious! Quickly, do something!! Fix it!"_

He tried to spin on his left foot, but he hadn't realized how much his legs were shaking right then, nor how it would affect his balance.

_"Did you just wobble?? In the middle of a basic spin!? That's so embarrassing! You ruined it!!"_

His breath was beginning to hitch. It was twice as exhausting to dance with dread clinging onto his shoulders and hanging from his back. Whispering. Whispering right into his ear. Telling him to open his eyes and face reality, the disappointment in Viktor's eyes.

_"You are never going to impress him, he's too good for you anyways"_

In that same second, Yuuri's feet stop their every movement, and the last notes of the song get lost in the air without a body to possess. He was panting, his hair damp with sweat, and his heart sinking to violently beat at the pitch of his stomach. He couldn't keep going, no when he knew he'd continue to ruin it, and when he couldn't hear the music over his own thoughts.

"I'm sorry" he stuttered, facing the ground, not ready to look at him yet "I fucked up, I..."

"What are you talking about?? That was amazing!!"

The boy raised his head, puzzled, so ridiculously oblivious to what he had done to Viktor's heart.

"What?"

"You are so talented, oh my god, why did you stop??" The man grabbed his head in frustration, way too piped up to notice the other's distress "How do you even mix those modern dance moves with ballet technique?? It looks fantastic!!"

Yuuri was speechless, trying to find the mocking or at least lying pity on the man's eyes, but all he found was pure awe.

"But...I don't think I..."

"Yuuri, you were stunning!"

The boy blinked, trying to give those compliments a sense and a meaning, as they tried to find a sit in the orchestra of other voices yelling him otherwise. Why was he so kind?? No matter how much he tried to tell himself he was being honest, it was just too good to be true. A professional telling him he looked stunning? It sounded like a joke.

Yet, Viktor didn't look like he was joking.

"I...I don't know what to say..."

"Don't say anything!" Viktor exclaimed, reaching for the play button "Just do it again!"

"Wait wait wait!" Yuuri blurted out, making him stop middle way "I can't stay, I need to go!"

"You need to go?" the man pouted "where?"

"I have homework to do"

Viktor narrowed his eyes.

"Oh really?" he said, watching him put on his glasses once again and grab his stuff to leave "for what class?"

"Health and sexual education"

Normally, when facing such an obvious lie, one would typically get annoyed and confront the liar immediately. But Viktor wasn't like that. Viktor was way too Viktor to show proper signs of anger or distress. Indeed. Viktor's disapproval was shown in a much personal, sophisticated way: Eyes closed, hands behind his back, head titled to the side and a big, blunt smile on his lips.

Yuuri didn't know why, but there were suddenly chills running down his spine.

"Yuuri" he said, intimidatingly composed, making the boy jump out of his skin "are you lying to me?"

"No! I swear I'm not! We seriously have..."

"What kind of homework does your health and sexual education teacher give?"

Brown eyes travelled around the room uncomfortably, resting anywhere but the stormy calmness of that smile.

"We have to..." he was totally conscious of just how ridiculous it sounded, but he had no other choice. Was it normal to feel anxious about people thinking you were lying when you were actually not lying but looking like you are doing so since you are a sweaty ball of nerves? Yuuri was stressed "...we have to write a pros and cons essay about a Kamasutra position"

There were some seconds of silence, in which Yuuri waited for Viktor to digest the words, and Viktor waited for the confirmation of it being a fucking joke.

"You are not serious"

"I am! I swear I...!"

"There's no way you are serious"

There was no way of convincing someone to believe something like that. He needed proof, and there was only one way to give it.

"Listen to tomorrow's class then" Yuuri shrugged, trying to look convincing "The previous counselor attended health and sexual education classes all the time"

Viktor sighed, frustrated, wanting to find a way to stop the boy and keep him from leaving, but unable to think of an option that didn't risk both his professional and social image.

It wasn't right to keep him there if he wanted to leave, being it an excuse or not, the health and sexual education class had just become his alibi to spend more time with Yuuri and learn about his life at school. It was a good chance.

After all, it was just a class. How bad could it possibly be?

 

 

"...and that's why I think the 'Reverse Cowgirl' is the best Kamasutra position"

There was a short round of clapping, and Viktor had never been more confused in his entire life. One by one, the students walked to the front of the class to read their essays. And if they were shy, like certain four-eyed cutie he knew, the teacher would read it out loud for them. Everyone seemed to be listening carefully, yet slightly uncomfortable, as some pictures were shown on the projector to emphasize.

Viktor could only reach one conclusion: what the fuck.

"That was wonderful, Mila!" The teacher, quite a creepy young man, congratulated them on their unusual presentations as if they were talking about normal shit like, the French Revolution or metamorphic rocks or something "I think that's all of you, right? Do you have any questions?"

"Mr. Giacometti!" a boy raised his hand, calling everyone's attention "what's your favourite position?" 

Seriously, was this some kind of joke? If Viktor remembered correctly, all sex ed teachers did was talk about gonorrhoea and gift condoms. What was happening here??

"That's a good question, my boy! And the answer is simple: every position is the best position! Sex is amazing in every form...however...what was the main rule again?" 

"SEX IS GREAT WITH LUBE, LATEX AND CONSENT" The class repeated in unison, knowing the rhyme by heart already.

"That's right! Now, let's go over the essentials of protection, like putting a condom on with your mouth..."

He continued to open a very complete powerpoint presentation, and explain every possible way of putting on a rubber. 

Viktor, who was standing at the back of the room right behind Yuuri, leaned over to whisper at his ear: 

"You should pay attention to this, I'm not sure if people at that bar have their medical records on point..."

"Viktor!" the poor student murmured a scream, covering his heated face and turning an impossible shade of red "Can you not??" 

"It's my job to warn you, my boy" he chuckled softly "is this class always this...intense?" 

"If by intense you mean weird and uncomfortable, then yes" Yuuri kept his voice low, trying not to interrupt the oh so important class "why are you still here though?" 

"I might want to have a talk with the teacher" 

"Hmm, good luck with that"

"And I'll help you write your Literature speech afterwards" he reassured, gently patting his shoulder "Don't worry"

After a while, and quite a long list of contraceptive methods Viktor didn't even know existed, the teacher opened a video file. The class was coming to an end, they didn't really have much time to see any documentary on AIDS or anything, so everyone wondered what it was. 

Some curious eyes at the back tried to get a closer look, but immediately regretted their decisions as soon as they saw a way too graphic video of a woman going through labour.

"I'll leave you watching the miracle of childbirth!" The teacher said, waving goodbye and exiting the classroom "Remember kids, this is what happens when you don't use protection!" 

Yuuri looked away, totally horrified, unable to erase the image of blood and opened legs out of his disturbed mind.

_"Why am I watching this???"_ He thought, covering his eyes _"I'm gay!!"_

Meanwhile, as the class turned into a mess of morbid gasps and disgusted yucks, Viktor followed the teacher outside.

"Excuse me, Mr. Giaco...Giaco..."

"Giacometti" The man winked at him, showing off his ridiculously long eye-lashes, and smiling fondly "But you can call me Chris" 

This was weird even for him. And he was Viktor Weird Nikiforov. 

"I'm Viktor, I'm the school new counselor, and I wanted to ask you some questions" 

The man arched a brow, intrigued, making too much of a show of his interest and nodding in agreement.

"I'm all ears" 

"It's about a student, Katsuki Yuuri, I was wondering if..." 

"Are you two fucking?" 

Viktor almost lost his shit, not really sure if he should feel offended or flattered by the supposition.

"What?? No! I..." 

"Don't worry, your secret is safe with me" he took a finger to his lips and winked once again "Tell me everything, I can give you tips"

What did he just get himself into?? He just wanted to ask for some info about Yuuri to someone who seemed much more fresh and extroverted than the other teachers! But he had found a counselor for himself, apparently.

"We didn't fuck" Viktor facepalmed, completely giving up "Well, we almost did, but..."

"Why don't you come have a coffee with me?" Chris put a hand on his shoulder, grinning invitingly "You look like you have quite a long story to get off your chest"

"I can't, I promised Yuuri to help him with a project after class"

"Ohh, don't you worry! Do you know how long birth can take?? They still have like twenty minutes of video"

Viktor had to do some serious thinking for about ten seconds.

“Can we make that coffee some vodka shots?”

“Well now we are talking!”

So, without giving it much thought and trusting his most shameful, guilty secret with a complete stranger, Viktor accepted the invitation. After all, no matter how many titles and "Mr" were added to his name, he was still Viktor Nikiforov: the most irrational, impulsive person to ever walk the planet.

 

 

Yuuri rushed into the bathroom and washed his face and his hands, feeling dirty, wanting to erase the image of childbirth out from his brain. There was no case. The memory would always be there to haunt him.

He kept his glasses in hand, looking at himself in the mirror, not finding much joy on his dripping face. Damn, he was tired, he hadn't really slept much at night, and the huge eye-bags were all the evidence he needed. It happened every once in a while that he couldn't sleep a blink and his overpowered brain was always to blame. How could he possibly sleep when there was so many shit to worry about?? School, the bullies, his presentation, the bar, Viktor...

Out of mere reflex, he took a hand to his hair and pushed it back. Kindly helped by the water, it stood in place as he molded it, looking almost as slick as it did with styling gel. That was it? Was that what everyone at the bar made such a fuss about? He still looked tired, he still looked ugly, and he still looked unworthy under any cost. He still looked like himself. Was that the so acclaimed Eros? He knew it wasn't.

Once his glasses were back in place and his sight back to normal, he was able to see something behind him on the mirror's reflection. A backpack? That was definitely not his, it was leather and animal print, someone must have forgotten it there. What should he do?? Maybe it had the owner's name written somewhere.

Whoever the owner was must have been quite a slacker, since there were no textbooks at all inside that school bag. Just some random utensils thrown aimlessly in the bottom, and a notebook that seemed to carry the common notes for the person's every class. Literally, one page were math equations and next you had facts on the Spanish civil war. There were lots of doodles too...really good doodles! Amazing, to be honest. The more he skimmed through the pages, the better and more elaborated they got. God, who drew that?? He seemed to have quite an odd obsession with felines, apparently, since there was at least one in every margin. 

But some other's looked kind of darker, oddly shaded faces with big, baggy eyes and torn expressions. Yuuri gulped at the sight of vivid, realist drawings of claws sinking into bland flesh and bodies contracting with pain. Chains, blades and random bloodshot eyes were inked all around Chemistry and Biology notes, the handwriting not having half of the dedication those doodles had. It was crazy, spectacular and breathtaking, but it was also terrifying. What was wrong with that kid? Why was he drawing that stuff??

The more he looked, the less school notes he found and the darker the pictures got. It wasn't until he reached half of the notebook that he found a full-page sketch, drawn wildly yet oddly neat, portraying a young man, hugging himself in pain. From his back, a pair of clawed hands seemed to be scratching their way back to the surface, tearing his flesh, leaving room for a hidden beast to crawl out his body. Yuuri was impressed, but undeniably horrified, tracing his fingers through the setoff of a drawing by a pen pressed with too much anger, wondering who was responsible for such a macabre masterpiece.

Moving his thumb aside, he realized the drawing was signed: Yuri Plisetsky, it read.

Plisetsky? Where did he hear that name before?

"Hey! You idiot what are you doing with my stuff??" one of the stalls was opened before he even had time to notice, and the notebook was violently ripped off his hands in no second "who gave you permission to look at this, piggy??"

No...oh no. Not him! He hadn't even seen him there, he thought there was no one else in the toilets!

"I'm really sorry!" he apologized, giving everything back to him "I didn't know it was yours! I thought someone had left without it and just..."

"I don't give a shit" Yuri pushed him, hard, against the wall's cold tiles "Just...never touch my stuff again!"

And, with no more words to exchange, the guy left the bathroom giving the door a loud bang, and almost giving Yuuri tachycardia. Was that obnoxious, violent punk really the artist of those soul-crushing pictures?? It was hard to believe.

But well, it was also kind of hard to believe Yuuri himself carried Eros identity within him, so...he really was in no place to judge.

 

 

_"Fucking brat"_ grunts and mumbles kept silently dripping out his mouth as he wrote, or rather angrily stabbed the paper with a pen, trying to finish his speech for once and for all _"who the fuck does he think he is"_

"Yuuri?" Viktor stared at him, confused, from the other side of the desk. He had been speaking to himself and insulting a "fucking emo blond cat" since he entered his office, and he didn't look very concentrated on his writing at all "is there something wrong?"

The guy gave a long sigh, as if he had been waiting the whole time to be asked that question, and placed his pen on top of the desk with much more violence than required.

"I'm done with that first year kid" he muttered, leaning back on the chair and crossing his arms with anger "He keeps being rude to me with no reason!"

"First year kid?"

"That blond punk that looks like a leopard puked on him"

"Ohhh Yurio!" Viktor clapped his hands, glad it was one of like...the 5 students he actually recognized "isn't he rude to everyone though??"

"Yeah, but with what reason!" Yuuri leaned on the desk, resting his head on his hand and grunting "you can't just...go around insulting people!! Why is he so damn salty all the time?? Such an asshole!!"

Viktor didn't really feel like defending anyone being rude towards Yuuri, but there was a strong sense of guilt kicking at his stomach that begged for him to talk. He obviously didn't approve of the kid's actions, but he couldn't see him as the evil, villainous bully. Not when he had known him since he was so young. Nor when he knew all he had been through.

"I don't think he is a bad person" he finally said, after quite a long quarrel with his conscience "you don't really know much about him, don't you?"

Yuuri was taken aback, kind of expecting to be comforted instead of questioned. He had seen just how rude the other Yuri was during the football match! Why was he defending him??

"Uhm...no??" Yuuri was actually kind of pissed, but the frown on his brow unstitched once he saw the look in Viktor's eyes "wait...do you?"

The man let out a long, heavy, guilty breath. He knew he wasn't supposed to share Yuri's information with other students, he knew just how wrong it was, and he didn't want Yuuri to think he was a terrible counselor with an unquiet tongue. So he did his best to swallow de details, the juicy data, and spilled the seeds for him to guess the truth.

"Yako....coach Feltsman is my uncle, and he used to be married to Miss Baranovskaya, who is Yurio's relative...I think she is her grandmother's cousin? Or was it her second cousin? I don't know, whatever. The point is..."

"Wait! Hold on!" Yuuri stopped him, grabbing his own head in confusion "coach Feltsman is your uncle??? He was married to the girls' coach????? She is related to the punk??????? And...WHY DO YOU KEEP CALLING THE GUY YURIO??"

Oh gosh, what had he gotten himself into. Apparently the truth had many other linked truths, oops. And Yuuri was about to have an aneurysm.

"yes, yes, yes, AND I DON'T KNOW I GET CONFUSED OK??" Viktor was painfully aware that he was fucking up, but he was also painfully unable to stop himself "As I was saying...Yurio lived most of his life with his grandfather, but now he's living with Lilia" 

"Uh?? Why?? What happened to his grandfather?" the boy asked, intrigued "and most importantly...what happened to his parents??"

There was no answer.

Yuuri stood still, wide-eyed and mouth slightly agape. He didn't want to make assumptions, but it seemed his heart already did, judging by the crippling ache. There were still many details he wanted to ask, many doubts he wanted to solve. Hell, the conversation had brought way more questions than answers! But he couldn't ask Viktor, no, digging for information would make him feel even worse. So he just stood there, bewildered, trying to convince himself not to make unnecessary conclusions.

It got him thinking.

Did Yuuri really have the right to protest about his own life? Every problem he ever had, every single penny he threw at the Shit-o-Meter...it was his own fault. His own anxiety, his own weakness, his own loneliness...HE was his own problem.

When was he going to make a change?

"Now, anyways" Viktor cleared his throat, internally scolding himself for being such an imbecile "Let's go on with your speech. I'm not allowed to tell you about Plisetsky's personal life, so..."

"Did he ever talk to you as the counselor?" the boy asked, intrigued, unable to let it go.

"Uhm, no, he never did, but..."

"Is there a way of helping him?"

As Viktor looked at him in the eye, and saw that broken, tender expression, he had to take a hand to his own chest to check his heart was still there. A tangled ball of guilt, compassion and shame was blocking his gut, heavy and bothersome, reminding him his job was not a laughing matter. He was dealing with people's emotions, for fucks sake. And he was doing it terribly wrong.

He, more than anyone, knew no one could heal others' wounds. What was his purpose at that school, then? What was he even trying to do?

"I don't know, Yuuri" he broke character, letting the student look into his pained eyes, and grabbing his hands in his from across the desk "No one can solve anyone's problems, you know? People are supposed to grow strong from their falls, that's what life's all about"

Yuuri looked away, overwhelmed by the expression in his eyes and the coldness of his hands.

"Yeah, I know, but..."

"However" he kept going, squeezing his hand to get his attention, and gifting him a soft smile "You can always stand by their side"

"Do you think Yurio needs someone to talk to?"

"Everyone does" he concluded, shrugging "That's why you are here, remember?"

"Oh, right" he blushed "But I don't think Yurio would ever come here"

"That's right, he needs other mean of self-expression" Viktor thought thoroughly, talking a hand to his chin, and remembering one extract from the Counseling for Dummies book he did read, after all "Maybe he needs a hobby"

"A hobby?"

"Yes, everyone needs something to clear their minds! You have dancing and skating, and I believe it helps you deal with your own issues very well"

"You are right" Yuuri nodded, enthusiastic "And I think I know what Yurio might...!"

Before Viktor could even start to get excited, someone abruptly opened the door and almost caused two simultaneous heart attacks. Yakov walked into the office, shocked, raising his thick eyebrows once he saw his nephew holding hands with a student.

"What the hell are you doing!??" He shouted, making them back away from each other immediately, and making Viktor drop cold sweat.

"We were talking!" he explained with a smile, standing up from his seat and away from the student "I'm doing my job, uncle Yakov, how you dare to interrupt??"

"Wait...you actually do your job??" the old man questioned, which caused Yuuri to give a small giggle and Viktor to feel terribly ashamed and offended.

"Of course I do my job!! Get out of my office!!!"

"Vitya! Are you seriously kicking me out?? I need to ask you a favor about...!"

"Later, my dear uncle!"

Yuuri couldn't help but laugh as he saw Viktor pushing the gym coach out of the room, always wearing that restless, idiotic smile of his. Yakov showed resistance though, and pulled him out with him, closing the door behind then and letting the boy maniacally chuckling to himself alone in the office.

That had never happened with the previous counselor, he thought.

Viktor was indeed weird, and apparently didn't know much about counseling. But he somehow felt much more comfortable around him than with any other teacher, so he really couldn't complain.

Yuuri waited for him to come back, silently, rocking back and forth on his chair. Was he going to take long? Should he continue writing on his own? He was about to start working on his project again when, out of mere clumsiness, he accidentally kicked Viktor's chair and threw the bag hanging from the backrest. Fuck.

In no second, he was kneeling on the floor, trying to put everything back in place and using every single insult he knew against himself. Why was everything covered in fur?? Did he have a pet?? Thankfully, there were no many loose papers he could mix and mess up, just his phone and wallet, some pens, notebooks and...

Out from the pile of stuff and fur, Yuuri took a brand new edition of The Lord of the Flies. The cover was bright and unmarked, the pages white and sharp-edged, and when he opened it, there was the unique smell of a just-bought book. The bookmark laid within the pages of one of the very first chapters, not much had really happened in the story yet. But what really took Yuuri's breath away, was the fact he had apparently taken the trouble to highlight each and everyone of Piggy's appearances, and had made notes to the side.

Someone opened the door, and in just a blink Yuuri had put both the book and himself back in place, acting like nothing happened and looking at his paper with fake resolution. Viktor seemed too off to even notice, so it was ok. He plainly sat across him again, grinning fondly, and offering to check how his writing was going so far.

Yuuri smiled.

Viktor may have not been the best counselor out there, but he was surely giving his best.

 

 

About a week later, Yuuri felt ready to die. 

Well, not to die, but to give his speech, which was basically the same thing. There were only two more students to go before it was his turn, and fate had brought him to wait awkwardly next to the platform. Most of the school’s body had gathered in the gymnasium, staring at the stage uninterestingly, just in case someone got so nervous they pissed their pants or something. Yuuri wished that wasn’t him.

His knees were bucking, his hands were sweaty, but he wasn’t nearly as close to vomit as he thought he would be. Actually, he was doing fine. Yes, he had nothing to worry about. The counselor, a supposed grown up with a title in communications, had helped him write his speech and make a PowerPoint presentation. Also, he had made him practice his reading at both his office and that same stage. And he had spent most of the night repeating the words to Vicchan, who lovingly listened and waved his tail for him. There was no way he could fuck it up, no when he had received so much help.

So, when his name was announced and an almost sarcastic round of applause welcomed him to the stage, he didn’t feel like faking a seizure to escape. No, not this time. He was ready, he felt more confident than he ever had, and he had all of Viktor’s advice stored in mind.

_“Remember none of this people give a shit about what you are saying, they are just glad they are skipping regular classes”_ he repeated to himself as he closed his eyes, not daring to see the crowd just yet _“Relax, you know the speech by heart, you won’t make mistakes”_ Breath in, breath out _“Like Viktor said: just imagine everyone with Celestino’s chin and everything will be fine”_

With a wobbly, yet determined pulse, he signalled the guys in charge of the projector to open his PowerPoint, and took the microphone between his damp hands. 

“Uhm, hello, my name is Yuuri Katsuki, and I’ll be talking about The Lord of the Flies by William Golding” He spotted Viktor in the corner of the room, who gave him a reassuring thumbs up, and he continued “I prepared a PowerPoint to illustrate my speech, so…”

He waited for the first picture of his file to appear so that he could begin, but as he used the time to organize his ideas, something else started to play on the screen behind him. A loud wave of gasps and laughs was heard, and Yuuri’s body stiffened at the distinct melody of In Regards to Love: Eros. 

With his heart beating anywhere but his chest, he turned around to confirm his worst guess was true: opened in another tab, there was the one and only HasetsuRumorHasIt webpage, featuring his latest hit, which included Yuuri dancing on that very same stage.

It was a short clip, not even a minute long, but apparently it was enough to have everyone entering a maniacal laughing frenzy not even the teachers could stop, and to make his vision blur with tears of shame not even his thick glasses could hide. 

Everyone was staring at him dancing such a provocative song. They were staring at him, his body, his movements, and his every flaws and mistakes. They were staring at something so personal, so intimate, so crude and raw and just-out-from-the-soul. He felt someone had reached a foreign, filthy had to his entrains and messed everything up. There were suddenly hundreds and hundreds of eyes on him and boy, eyes were surely a heavy thing.

Eyes added kilos and kilos of weight to his ugly thighs, a ton to his inept clumsy feet. The more eyes he had on him the more his own sight got distorted by shame. He wasn’t seeing the same video as everyone else. No, his own eyes wouldn’t let him see a dancing boy.

All he could see, was a bumbling piggy.

Before he could even offer a reaction, he saw JJ and Emile high-five next to the projector’s laptop, chuckling hysterically, and mockingly imitating the video’s dance moves. He clenched his fists, furious, running out from the stage and towards the door, not wanting to give them the pleasure of seeing him cry.

“Yuuri, wait!” Viktor tried to reach out for him, but it was too late. 

He was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaa please tell me your thoughts!!! Leave a comment or message me through my tumblr "justmeandmysillystuff" yayyy!


	4. Roses are red, Violets are blue, join the fucKIN ARTS CLUB

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Michele fans...I'm so sorry for making him such an ass XD I promise he'll be good later, he's just confused(?  
> I hope you like Otabek's poetry skills hahaha it's one of my first times writing poetry in english so don't judge me.

Viktor ran out of the gymnasium at the speed of light, closing the door with a thud, and turning the loud deafening chuckles into distant murmurs that echoed through the hallway. His heart was thundering. His legs felt numb. An acid, grotesque taste kept lingering in his mouth and he couldn't tell if it was guilt or if he was about to throw up. He needed to find Yuuri, and he needed to do it quickly.

Fuck, he was such an idiot, he shouldn't have made him dance in de gymnasium if he didn't want to. Gosh, he didn't know kids could be so cruel. During his days things weren't that way! Or were they? Had he been so distracted all the time to notice there were people like Yuuri around? Shy people, people who were lonely, left out, unheard...and yet had so much to offer. He really wanted to help, damn, it was the main reason he hadn't gone back to his hometown yet. He needed to see that boy smiling, a genuine, sober smile. He wanted him to be as happy as Eros was, without the alcohol and its inevitable oblivion. But was he helping at all?? Was he really capable of carrying on with such a responsibility?

He ran around the school like a maniac, searching everywhere, thinking of every possible place the boy could have been using as a panic room. His first obvious guess was the toilets, but surprisingly he wasn't there. The man was beginning to get seriously worried. He was not at the library, nor at his current classroom, he wasn't hiding outside at the patio, and Viktor swore he had looked under every table of the cafeteria. Where had he gone?? There weren't many proper crying places around the school, had Yuuri gone home?? Where was he??

With his nerves on point, Viktor made his way to his office with long, hurried steps. He needed to call Yuuri's house and ask if he was there. But...what if he worried his parents?? Were his parents even home? Was Yuuri even home??? There was no way he had traveled all the way there in just a few minutes, he would have to wait. God, he couldn't wait! Poor thing was probably out there all alone crying his eyes out, he couldn't just sit and wait for him to appear! He needed to do something.

However, much for his relief and disbelief, once he reached his office he saw Yuuri standing there against the door. He had his hands behind his back and his head bent downwards, as usual, staring at the floor like it had so many answers. Viktor froze, breathless, looking at him as if he were some kind of rare endangered animal, and trying to soothe his heart from the outbursts of distress and nonstop running.

"Yuuri?" his voice came out breathy, but the boy heard him either way, and lifted his gaze from the ground. His eyes were red and swollen, but he wasn't crying at the moment. In fact, he looked unusually calm, except for the constant fidgeting of his hands.

"Hey" he sighed, not bothering to offer a smile, as he moved away from the door.

"Hey..." Viktor walked to him, grabbing him by the shoulder and taking a closer look to his face "Are you alright? How are you feeling?"

Yuuri rubbed his sore eyes as best as he could without taking off his glasses, nodding calmly and quietly, enjoying the weight of the other's hand on his shoulder.

"I'm good, I guess" he mumbled, looking away.

"Do you want to come into the office? Do you need to talk for a while?" The boy nodded "Come on then"

Viktor opened the door, and gently guided the student inside with a pat on the back. He didn't look as broken as he thought he would be. Based on his short experience, he had deduced he was going to confront some kind of panic attack, but the guy looked fairly tranquil. He just seemed...lost, thoughtful and tired of crying, as he silently sat in front of him and looked at the paper bin for lifeless comfort.

"Tell me..." he asked him not concrete question, having learnt he sometimes got rather intimidated when forced to talk and shut down. It was better to just perk his ears and seal his lips, let him speak out what he needed, all at his time "Uhm...you can share what you want, I guess?"

"It's weird...at first I kind of wanted to throw myself through the nearest window -I knind of still want to though- but then I realized...something. I don't really know how to explain it"

"Come on, you can do it" Viktor insisted. But Yuuri didn't work very well under pressure, and he lowered about three levels of grammar. So he tried to make it short, so that there were less chances of fucking up the sentence.

"I was really angry and frustrated...but I remembered Yurio, and I guess I calmed down"

"Yurio?"

"Yeah" he shrugged "I kind of realized there must be a reason why those dickheads acted the way they did. Just like Yurio being...well, being Yurio all the time"

Viktor blinked, trying to buy a ticket to that new train of thought, that was so different and positive compared to Yuuri's usual beliefs.

"You are saying...knowing Yurio's life made you forgive other bullies?"

"No, not at all" he shook his head "I do not forgive them, in fact, I want them dead right now...but it kind of made me realize it's maybe not all my fault? That maybe they don't pick on me because I'm me and I deserve it, but just because other reasons I guess. Does it even make sense? I'm sorry if I..."

"No, it's ok. I understand what you mean" Viktor smiled, watching how the boy's eyes were beginning to get watery again, and stroking his forearm fondly from across the table "It still hurt though, didn't it?"

"It was so embarrassing!" he cried out, covering his eyes with mortification "Everybody saw me dancing such a....weird song! Gosh, somebody kill me!"

"Hey, don't say such things!" Viktor grabbed his arm and uncovered his face, pouting childishly, not even thinking about if the boy really meant those words "It's just a video"

"It's not just a video! It's HasetsuRumorHasIt.com!! I'm doomed forever!!"

"No you are not" he rolled his eyes "You dance wonderfully, I don't see how that may ruin your existence"

"Ugh, you don't understand!" Yuuri grabbed his own head in a failed attempt of taming what's inside "I feel...exposed!"

Viktor sulked, feeling as guilty and incompetent as ever, not really knowing how to solve the crisis inside Yuuri's mind... but sure as hell he could get to work on the outside matters. He was still incapable of reading his mind, and he still couldn't get him to properly tell him how he felt. But if he was sure of something, was that he was Viktor Nikiforov, the most insistent, stubborn graduate to ever walk those hallways.

"Don't worry, Yuuri. I'll find out who's behind HasetsuRumorHasIt's webpage, and I'll make him take out the video"

"What??" he blurted out "that's impossible! No one ever found their identity!"

"Well, I will" He stood up from his seat, riled-up and determinate, looking at Yuuri right in the eye with burning will "It won't be easy, but I promise as your counselor that I won't rest, I won't sleep, and I won't leave this damn school until I find out who runs that webpage!"

 

 

"I run the webpage"

Wow, that was easy.

Before Viktor could even formulate one of his stupid plans, the answer walked itself all the way to his office, and took a sit right in front of him. It was a boy, black hair and brown skin, who wouldn't stop staring at him with big, drowsy, dark eyes.

"Excuse me but...who are you??" was the only thing shock would let him ask, apparently, as he rubbed the stress out from the bridge of his nose. God, he was starting to catch Yakov's habits.

"I'm Phichit Chulanont, I'm on my second year" He breathed out, nervous and exhausted, after what seemed to have been a sleepless night.

"And YOU run HasetsuRumorHasIt??" that was certainly not how Viktor pictured such a powerful entity, no way in hell. Never he could have imagined such an innocent angel face, a bowl-like haircut, and a hamster phone case. The guy nodded "Why??"

He couldn't get himself into a serious, adequate mood. The counselor role was hard to play when you hated with burning passion the person you were supposed to help. Ok no, he didn't hate him, he was just really mad at whoever made Yuuri cry. And, although he knew it hadn't been him who played the video at the presentation, he had been cruel enough to spy on them and film the dancing.

"I don't know how it got to this..." he confessed, looking downwards to check his phone's notifications, but didn’t seem afraid to make eye-contact every now and then. He wasn't like Yuuri, he seemed to trust him, and oh god he surely was expecting a real counselor. Was he going to tell him his tragic back-story?? "But back when I was in middle school I joined the school journal, and I started writing about the usual, you know? Teachers, Minako's obvious alcoholism, the food of the cafeteria being inedible...and I guess I got out of control"

"What do you mean?" Viktor asked, relieved about just how easy was taking information out from that guy.

"Well...there was this senior who was rude to everyone, and was always picking on first years and stuff. And one day I saw him cheating on his girlfriend in the toilets and I..."

"You published it"

"Not at first. I was scared he would find me and kill me if I did!" as he spoke his phone wouldn't stop buzzing, and he answered both the counselor and the messages as if his tongue and thumbs were controlled by two separate brains "And the teachers wouldn't let me publish it anonymously so..."

"You created the webpage" Viktor had the habit of finishing other people's sentences. It made him feel smart, like a psychic or something.

"Yeah, I just posted the photos I took, thinking I was making justice. But when I woke up the next morning...I was famous. Well, not me, the webpage, but still. In three years as a user I had only managed to get like, five twitter followers. And overnight HasetsuRumorHasIt had suddenly over two hundred visits! It was insane! The senior couple broke up immediately, and everyone kept talking about that "mysterious hero" who had spread the word and I was so hype I swear! I couldn't just...leave things there!"  
"If you are so proud of-" He was interrupted by yet another notification in Phichit's phone "Turn that thing off before I kindly throw it to the trash" He said, furiously smiling, and making the poor guy gulp out of mare intimidation "As I was saying...If you are so proud of being the rumor superman, then why are you here?"

Phichit sulked and leaned on the chair, eyes cloudy and sorrowful, not knowing where to hide now that he didn't have his phone to distract himself. Viktor wasn't stupid enough to ignore the change in demeanor, and knew he had asked the right question and skipped all the preamble.

"I just..." the boy flinched, his voice breaking "I feel so sorry for what I did to Yuuri Katsuki!" he blurted out, and Viktor's eyebrows raised all the long way to his hairline "Ever since I created the damn webpage, I had always fed from the good comments...but I never thought about what it did to the people I humiliated. Seeing Yuuri running away from that presentation yesterday...It broke me! I don't know what to do! I'm terrible!"

"Yes, you are"

Phichit stiffened, taken aback and word-struck, never really expecting the counselor to say something like that.

"Uh??"

"What you did was terrible, young man" Viktor scolded, frowned brow and crossed arms, his anger invalidating any attempts on sounding like a real professional "Do you know just how upset that boy was?? You should feel ashamed of yourself"

Phichit felt the familiar kicks of guilt at the pit of his stomach, and the knot of repressed sobbing beginning to hinder in his throat. He hadn’t realized just how much he had come there for consolation. How strongly he was really expecting to be told "everything was going to be ok" and that "it wasn't his fault"...but it didn't happen. The counselor was angry at him, the person who was supposed to support him had turned him down, and he felt absolutely miserable.

"I'm so sorry" he whimpered, genuinely pained "I didn't mean any harm...I just wanted people to like me!"

"People to like you? Boy, your followers are not friends, you know? They just care about the gossip"

Why was he being so blunt!? Maybe because of his anger...but he had Phichit in the verge of tears. It wasn't very pedagogical to just throw the truth at the boy's face and expect him to catch it harmless, but he wasn't the type of person who gave bullies a pat on the back and told them to "think of what they've done". No way. And although this guy didn't seem like a bully at all, he wasn't going to let him think he had an excuse for what he had done.

"I know..." He sulked, and Viktor had to make a huge effort not to break his firm posture once he saw the first tear rolling down his cheek "It's just that...it makes me feel less lonely"

"You don't have any friends?"

"I do, I mostly talk with some first years, but they are closer within them than they are with me" he pouted, drying his tear before it turned plural "We don't hang out that much, but it's not like I have no one to sit at lunch with"

"I see..." Viktor mumbled, pretending to be analyzing the situation. But, in reality, he had no idea of what to do. He was horrible with crying people, and he had only realized now that his salary depended on it.

"I'm really sorry. What should I do?? I didn't want to cause any harm I just..."

"I know you didn't want to hurt anybody, but you did" Viktor spoke in a much gentler tone, realizing he felt guilty enough already, and not wanting to appeal to the Counseling for Dummies manual "You need to take responsibility for your actions"

"What do you mean?"

"Why don't you say sorry to all the people you embarrassed? Maybe that way you'll feel better"

"What?? No, I can't do that!" he exclaimed "People would hate me if I did! It would kill me!"

"Well, your choice" Viktor shrugged "An army of gossiping followers, or a clear conscience?"

Phichit stared at him blankly, his mind entering some sort of rush hour with thoughts coming and going from everywhere to anywhere without giving him time to breathe or assimilate. He didn't know what was right or wrong at that point, nor what were the answers to half of the questions he was running around his head. Hell, he didn't even know how a counselor could possibly be so brute! But he did know what he was going to do, and that he needed to do it right away.

"Thank you, Mr.Nikiforov" he stood up, no more tears clouding his eyes, but a serious, confident look instead "I think I know what to do"

"Goodbye, kid, you can do it!" He waved as he watched him leave, pouring vodka into a glass to the brim as soon as he was alone and out of sight "You can do anything in life!"

 

 

Yuri Plisetsky walked the lonely, empty hallways of a busy school, being not so sly about the fact he had just skipped a class. Fuck chemistry. Who needed that shit anyways? Plus, the teacher was a moody bitch. Fuck Miss Anderson. It wasn't his fault to fall asleep in the middle of the lessons is she explained carbon chains like she were singing a lullaby. Fuck carbon chains.

Fuck everything.

Maybe he should just go home already, he hadn't signed up for any extra class, so he had no reason to stay at all. There were usually no classes after lunch, just some extra hours they couldn't fit into the morning schedule (fucking chemistry), and extra courses like music or chess. What kind of sick mind could enjoy a chess club was beyond his comprehension.

There were students who were super hype and enthusiastic about extra classes and signed up for every course they could squeeze into their timetables. There was this girl in his class who was part of the karate, cooking, dancing and drama clubs AND was also a cheerleader. Bitch should be dead already. 

But Yuri found no interest at all in straying more unnecessary hours at school, it was stupid as hell, and a total waste of precious time. He had no motivation whatsoever to start a hobby, to be honest. Staying home was always better. There he had his videogames, and his cat. And he didn't have to deal with stupid people.

Lilia was definitely overreacting; he wasn't that lonely and purposeless. No, she made it sound like he was depressed or something. He just didn't need "friends", they were a burden, and no one ever understood him. Although it didn't look like it, Yuri was really mature for his age, and it was hard to find classmates he could share his mind with. They were all stupid, in his opinion. And he had no interest whatsoever in speaking a word to them. After all, he had Lilia, and he could always visit his grandpa if he felt lonely. Friends? Who needed that shit?

He could take care of himself.

_“I can take care of myself”_

Yuri stopped middle-track, startled by the sudden voice breaking through the murmurs of the empty hallway.

_“I can live with being_  
_the only soul in the herd._  
_I can_  
_I will_  
_survive_  
_the adversity_  
_of jungles of mundanity._  
_I can_  
_I will_  
_suck the poison_  
_out of my own veins”_

The deep, serene voice kept reciting its words, profound and solemn, echoing at every wall. The corridor was flooded by its suavity in no second and it had Yuri drowning, abstracted from every other reality, as if he were underwater. 

_“I can_  
_roar the foe away_  
_I will_  
_dig my claws_  
_into my own flesh_  
_pluck out the bullets, the knives,_  
_the words_  
_I can, I will._  
_take care of myself”_

Was that a poem? He loved it. It was vivid, crude, even violent…where did it come from? Who wrote it? 

Following the voice, he reached the ajar door of the literature club and took a cautious peep inside: Expectant and noiseless, a small audience sat on a semi-circle around a single student, listening carefully, not wanting to miss a single word coming out of those lips. Yuri gulped. He was wearing a leather jacket, his eyes and hair were pitch black, and he pulled out the undercut even better than that JJ moron. He looked so cool! 

_“My heart’s no hive,_  
_no holes, no crowds._  
_My heart’s a sleeping feline,_  
_alert and wild_  
_My heart’s the beast_  
_you don’t want to wake up”_

Feline? Now we are talking. Yuri liked that poem, he liked it a lot. It was nothing alike the overly sentimental and pointless bullshit his teacher made him read. This really managed to grasp his attention, almost as if it were talking to him. 

_“I will sharpen my nails and fangs_  
_and bite the hand of the attacker_  
_of the neutral,_  
_of the passerby,_  
_and eventually_  
_the brother”_

Yuri swallowed a gasp.

_“I will rip off the fingers_  
_of every single toucher”_

A sudden, aching twirl formed in the pitch of his stomach. Absorbing, merciless, pulling and stretching his soul as it tried to drain it away. His lungs, his heart, his sternum, all were sucked up and shaken by the fun-size black hole. Hands were beginning to sweat and words kept swirling inside his mind, as he continued to listen with his mouth slightly agape.

_“Hairs on end, eyes opened wide_  
_the thought of closeness_  
_makes me terrified._

_What do you call_  
_a tiger with no stripes?_  
_a mane-less lion?_  
_a haltered jaguar?_  
_I’m a kitten_  
_behind a beware sign_.

_I’ll spend my life_  
_curled into a ball_  
_with the heat of no fireplace_  
_nor hands to pet my fur._  
_I’ll whine and waste my time_  
_hunting imaginary mice,_  
_perking my ears and hissing._  
_Hostile and menace,_  
_bloodshot eyes and jaws like death-traps._

_I’ll become a threat._  
_That way I’ll scare the enemy_  
_and I’ll scare myself._  
_But it’s ok..._

_After all,_  
_I can take care of myself”_

Silence ruled the hallways again… except for a round of clapping, the sudden bell, hundreds of feet getting out of their classrooms, and the drumming sound of Yuri’s heartbeat. Yes, silence. Silence was all he heard. No voices, no footsteps, no lockers opening and closing. Just silence. 

And the poem repeating, over and over again.

He stood still, standing at the doorframe like a prying mannequin. In a trance, lapping at his own teeth in the useless search for fangs. 

“That was beautiful, Otabek!” The teacher clapped, smiling fondly “I can’t believe you are just a second year!” 

“Thank you” Was the only given answer, as he put his things away. 

“Try to correct the repetition of the word “myself” at the last part, everything else was perfect!” 

“Hmm” He didn’t seem to be paying much attention, he just looked eager to leave, grabbing his bag and heading to the exit with no objections “I’ll keep it in mind” 

As soon as he crossed the door, he almost bumped into certain, unblinking kid, staring at him as if he were some kind of prophet. He wouldn’t move, he wouldn’t talk, and he wouldn’t unglue those striking green eyes from him. He would just watch, silent, as if he were expecting answers for a never-asked question.

Otabek froze, stuck between intimidated and surprised, getting himself together and out from the spell of those familiar, daunting eyes. He blinked, trying to get away of that engulfing jade tone, searching for proper words and proper questions to say. But once his mouth was full of words, the kid turned around and left. 

Nothing said. Just hurried steps disappearing into the crowd. 

 

 

Yuuri got home and emptied the Shit-o-Meter. That was it. It had been a shit-load enough of a day and he deserved his chocolate. After a quick trip to the drugstore, he was curling into a ball in bed, stuffing candy into his mouth and hugging Vicchan against his chest.

He gave a last glance to his phone, torturing himself with tweets and pictures of what had happened at the gymnasium that same morning, and finally turned it off. The worst part was that the whole humiliation had been in vain, since he hadn't even been able to start with his presentation on the first place. The mere thought of it was driving him insane. What he had told Viktor was true, he didn't feel as bad about it as he could. But it was still extremely embarrassing, it was still frustrating, and his head was still willing to torture him and sharpen the memory's edges.

He sobbed into the soft fur, and the dog turned to lap at his face. Maybe to lick the candy at the corner of his lips, or maybe to dry out his tears, who knows? Yuuri liked to think it was the later, and he hugged Vicchan even closer.

He remembered what Viktor said, about talking his problems out of his system. But again, he didn't have anyone to talk to. He had given him his phone number, just in case he had an emergency and needed to chat, but honestly Yuuri didn't have the guts to call him. He hated phone calls, gosh, he couldn't even order pizza! How was he going to call his nice and beautiful counselor?? And the only person in the house was his sister, but he doubted Mari would care about his ranting...she surely had much better things to do.

Should he go clubbing again? Not really, it was just Thursday, he had school the next day. 

Did he really have to go to school though? 

It would be torture, looking at everyone in the eye, knowing they were thinking of Eros when they looked back. He felt mortified. Maybe some hours at The Madmen cage wouldn't hurt...just a little while! There shouldn't be that much people, and he could always avoid alcohol...ok no, who was he trying to fool. He had no self-control whatsoever, and with the amount of crap he had gone through that day he doubted he'd be sober enough to wake up at seven and look like normal human being to attend classes.

But then again...did he really have to go to school?

 

 

The next day, when Viktor got to school, Yuuri wasn't there.

He wished he didn't know the reasons for his absence, but he totally knew. He was no idiot, and he had a very clear idea of what may have happened to the boy. It included alcohol. And a load of sex appeal.

Damn, the day was boring without Yuuri's visits. With the excuse of the presentation, the kid would come to his office every now and then and ask for help with the speech, and Viktor would use that time to ask him how he was doing, and try to keep him in a good mood for the rest of the day.

However, the previous day had been different. No matter how much he tried to cheer him up, he just couldn't bring that cute, little smile back to surface. Poor thing. Thankfully, he would have the whole weekend to think and soothe his nerves, and maybe on Monday he would be back to his usual, slightly-less-wretched self. That is, if he didn't spend it at The Madmen Cage the whole time.

Viktor was worried.

What's more, his head was still wrapped around Phichit's confession. He had been quite harsh with the kid, mainly since he was mad, and he knew he had proven to be the worst counselor in the history of counselors. He hadn't heard from him since he left his office yesterday telling him he knew exactly how to mend his mistakes, and he feared he had killed himself or something by that point. It was taking everyone way too long to realize they should fire him already.

He debated weather he should call Yuuri, but he didn't have his number. He had given him his just in case, bit it would have been too creepy to ask for his too. He also couldn't ask for the number in reception call his house. That would have been even creepier. He was going to have to face the punishment destiny had been fair enough to give him, and wait the whole weekend to check on Yuuri again.

After having some coffee (yeah, sure) with Christophe, and talking about how much he had fucked up for around two hours, Viktor returned home to keep ranting to his dog for about three hours more. Christophe had told him to relax, that Yuuri was probably ok, or at least alive since the school hadn't announced a mourning day just yet. But he couldn't get it out of his head, mainly since he kept thinking it was his fault.

He wished he could drown his misery in some homemade food, but then he remembered he didn't know how to cook shit, and that he would have to cry on instant noodle soup.

When he was climbing on top of the counter, digging in the depths of the cupboard for a package he KNEW it was there, he tripped and fell down like an idiot as he was startled by the sudden ringing of his phone. Ouch. Hurt and slightly confused, he tried to get up and remember where had he put the damn thing before the caller gave up on him and hung up, but it wasn't an easy task when he had just bumped his head quite badly.

He needed to hurry up! What if it was Yuuri???

Makkachin started barking for him in his room, louder than his ringtone, and Viktor ran all his way there to dive for his phone under the covers and answering just in time.

"Hello??" He blurted out, breathless.

 _"Viktor??_ " Oh crap. Oh crap oh crap oh crap _"What took you so long to answer?? Are you panting?? What were you doing??"_

"Father!" he cleared his throat, trying to catch his breath and sound like a normal human being "Nothing! I was just about to cook some..." he stared at the chicken noodle soup box he had in hand "some gourmet pasta"

 _"I see"_ Shit, what was with that tone? Was that the Disappointed Father Tone™?? _"How is your new life going?"_

"Fine!" he almost trips again as he stood up from the bed, running towards his laptop to check his mail for the first time in a week, and corroborate he had, indeed, three unseen messages from his father. Shit. "I'm perfectly fine! Life here is so...gratifying..."

 _"I heard you are working at a high school"_ he proceeded, barely listening _"Is that true?"_

"Yes, yes it is!" Viktor chirped enthusiastically, as he read some forgotten mails and closed the extra tabs he wasn't using "I'm the counselor! I have my own office, and my boss is pretty cool! Plus, there's this kid who..."

_"Cut the nonsense, Viktor. When will you admit you made a mistake and come back?"_

So escaping wasn't as easy as moving out of town, huh?

"Father, I told you. I'm not going back, I'm happy here"

 _"Ridiculous"_ the man snorted, and Viktor heard what had probably been his fist hitting the table _"You got your damn title to work at my company, not some stupid, low-budget school"_

"I am a grown-up..."

 _"You are immature"_ he interrupted _"You are wasting your potential! Just like when you were a kid and got into that skating nonsense. Life doesn't work like that! You can't always do what you please! Once you become an adult you need to acknowledge the responsibilities of..."_

Viktor turned a deaf ear, barely humming as a response, knowing it was impossible to talk to him during his lecturing monologues. Somehow, without those eyes piercing into his soul as he shouted, it wasn't that intimidating to talk to his father. Distance made him feel safer, in a way. Far, far away from that man and his tantrums. Like if he were in another dimension rather than other town. There, the Nikiforov family business was just a nighttime bed-story, his responsibilities an old nightmare, and his father just the boogieman hiding under the phone's speaker.

_"...I didn’t t raise you to act this way, a true man doesn't go around without properly settling down and..."_

In case you are wondering, yes, this was extremely stressful for Viktor. But he didn't care about the screaming and the scolding, he was used to it already, and it was just a little part of a much wider problem. His father's mere existence was dreading. Like having a really big zit in the forehead: you may not see it, but you know it's there.

Oh, how he wished he could just...pop it.

_"...I thought you were improving after you got into university, but now you are back to this nonsense! This has to be your mother's fault, you are just wasting..."_

Viktor sighed, browsing through his social media, trying to find something to distract his mind until his father ran out of voice or life mistakes to throw at his face. He was about to appeal to kitten videos on youtube...until he saw THAT notification.

If he had been eating his chicken noodle soup, he would have choked on it.

**_GOODBYE HASETSURUMORHASIT_ **

_"...When I was your age I was already working on this business and I won-"_

"Yeah, you know what, father? You are right. You always are" Viktor clicked on the video like a maniac, annoyed by the slow internet connection "I perfectly understand but I got to go now! It was nice talking to you!

_"Viktor! I haven't finished saying-"_

"Goodbye dad!"

Damn, he was going to regret hanging up on him like that later, but now he couldn't really care less. What was that video?? What did it mean?? Had the kid committed suicide!?? Fuck fuck fuck fuck....come on, load the damn video, you piece of crap!

 _"Hello, friends"_ There it was! The video started playing and it showed Phichit, sitting alone in what he assumed it was his room, talking to the camera with sorry, lidded eyes _"My name is Phichit Chulanont, and I'm the one who has been behind this website all along"_

Viktor gulped, trying to swallow his heart back in place. He checked the video's length, and it was only two minutes. Was that enough for a suicide video??

 _"I...started with this whole thing because I wanted attention. I needed to feel important, or at least have someone interested in what I said or wrote, I guess. And after so much time I can conclude...this wasn't the right way"_ he was making an effort not to cry, just like he had done in his office some days ago, Viktor could clearly see it _"I didn't mean to hurt anybody, I just wanted to make people laugh, and feel like I was part of something important. Because I used to feel so unimportant, and I thought it was just fair for me to find a place by uploading those videos and humiliate everybody else...but then I talked to Mr.Nikiforov, the counselor, and he helped me understand otherwise"_

Wait, what the hell???

 _"He made me realize just how much of an asshole I was, and told me I was the only one who could mend this huge mistake. And I know everyone will hate me now, and that some of you will want to murder me as soon as I step on school next Monday...but I know I won't be able to deal with the guilt if I don't upload this video. What I really mean is..."_ he made some seconds of silence, in which Viktor was able to listen to his own heartbeat _"To everyone I ever hurt or shamed, I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I'm not asking for your forgiveness, I just want to be able to forgive myself"_ he smiled, eyes watery and sorrowful, as he looked at the camera one last time _"This is the last time I'll ever post on this site, so you can forget about the videos. I'm sorry again, and I wish you all the best. Phichit, out"_

The kid took his hand to the camera, and suddenly the video was over. Viktor saw himself, mouth agape in frozen shock, reflected on the black screen. He tried to read the comments, to check how many people had seen in. Unfortunately, comments were blocked for the video. But his breath got stuck in his throat as soon as he saw the amount of views: five hundred and counting. The entire school had seen that. Had Yuuri seen it? He couldn't help but wonder.

With a puzzled heart-rate, not really sure if he was suffering tachycardia or a thrombosis, he stood up from his seat and made his way back to the kitchen. A warm, fuzzy feeling distracted him from the obvious hunger. Was that what pride felt like? The feeling of your own achievements? He didn't know, he had forgotten.

All he knew, as he boiled some water and prepared a bowl, was that it was going to be quite an interesting Monday.

 

 

Yuuri had spent his whole three school-less days to get psychologically ready for the funny stares in the corridor. It hadn’t been enough. If there used to be just one single advantage about being him, it was that people didn’t seem to notice him as they walked around. He was invisible, as relevant as a speck of dust. And now, after the video, everyone suddenly had their eyes on him. How embarrassing. 

Thursday’s night had been a blur, he drunk so much he almost blanks, and ended up falling asleep inside some random guy’s car. If you are wondering how he got there, do not ask him. He had no idea. One second he was in the bar, dealing with some people’s awkward flirting, and next he was passed out and shirtless inside a Toyota. Of course, he attempted a silent walk of shame, and exited the vehicle before the owner appeared. Where had he gone? No clue. What had happened inside that car? He really preferred not to know. But by the time he woke up it was already daytime, and he had to call his house saying he had gone to school earlier as an excuse for not being there in the morning. And, since he knew Mari was going to stay home all day, he dragged his tired body to a public park and slept on a bench, until it was the normal hour at which he was supposed to be back from school. 

Yes, he was a disaster. 

But he had used the rest of the weekend to rest. And he had talked to his literature teacher first thing in the morning, who told him he could just hand in his speech as an essay and she would grade it, considering the inconveniences. So, after all, he was in quite a bright mood, and he wanted to share it with Viktor and thank him for his help. 

However, when he reached his office, he saw something he was sure had never happened before in all his years at school: a long, eternal queue at the counselor’s door. 

Yuuri wiped his glasses, taken aback, wanting to check if he was seeing correctly. His eyes were, effectively, not lying to him. Around fifty people were making a line, patiently waiting to talk to Viktor. Was it because of the unintentional publicity he got from Hasetsurumorhasit.com? He couldn’t help but chuckle internally. Come on, it was funny. The poor man was probably so confused and ridiculously busy right then. He didn’t know how things had come to that, how he had frikin found the website’s founder, nor how he had gotten him to confess and apologize, AND even managed to get some promotion…it had been probably an accident. The man was lucky enough.

He turned around, thinking he could maybe try to talk to Viktor some other time. Now that he had such a large clientele, it was going to be hard to talk to him. Yuuri didn’t know why, but he kind of disliked the idea. Was it normal to want the school counselor all to yourself? 

Before he could hit his head against a locker for thinking such things, a pair of hands suddenly grabbed him from behind and turned him around, almost giving him a heart-attack, and fronting him with the pretty faces of two young ladies dressed in cheerleader uniforms. To say Yuuri was confused it was not enough. Was he going to get beaten up by the girls now, too?

“That’s not him, you idiot!” One of them, who he identified as JJ’s girlfriend, shouted at the other “He didn’t wear glasses!” 

“It IS him!” The other, the one grabbing him by the shoulders and looking at him as if his face were a sudoku puzzle, insisted and outlined an angry pout “I never forget a face! This is him, I’m sure!” 

“Sara, for the love of god, you are creeping him out!” Sara? Wasn’t that Michele Crispino’s sister??? “Let him go!” 

The girl let go of her hold on him, but her dark, inquisitive eyes were still on him like some grabbing claw. What where they doing?? What did they want??

“Excuse me, are you Yuuri Katsuki??” She asked, arching one of her pretty brows. 

“Uhm…yeah?” 

“Ha! Told you so, bitch!” She screamed, giving the other girl a nasty look, and turning to a much intimidated Yuuri again “Hello Yuuri, my name is Sara Crispino, and that crustacean with boobs over there is Isabella Yang”

“Hey!” Isabella punched her arm. Why were they introducing themselves?? Why ere they even talking to him?? Weren’t they like, royally popular?? 

“As I was saying…” Sara proceeded “We are the leaders of the cheerleader’s team, we had been looking for male recruits for months, and we were wondering if you would maybe want to join the team!” 

What the actual fuck?? 

“What?” It was literally all he was able to stutter. 

“Please think about it!” Isabella insisted, nodding her head excitedly “We would love to have you with us, you are such a good dancer!” 

Was this some kind of prank for one of those stupid TV shows?? Was he going to receive some consolation prize and a balloon shower at any moment? Probably. It sounded more coherent than being part of the cheerleaders. 

“Uhm, I…don’t really know what to say” He scratched the back of his neck, uncomfortably “I wasn’t really thinking about being a cheerleader. Plus, I have a job, I wouldn’t be able to stay to practices and stuff” 

That was just a lame excuse, he wouldn’t join even if he had all the time on earth. But he wanted to be polite. 

“Oh, I see” Sara sulked, trying to look cute, used to boys always saying yes to her gorgeous puppy face. Not this time, babe “Call us if you change your mind though!” 

“I will” no way in hell “Thanks anyways” 

“Bye bye!” Isabella winked “You can find us in the gymnasium!” 

And, just as quickly as they appeared, they got lost in the hallway’s busy crowd. Yuuri was disturbed to no end, trying to recall the last three minutes of his life and give them a sense. What?? Him?? A cheerleader??? He would rather be dead, to be honest. But it somehow felt nice to have been recruited. Like, they had PERSONALLY looked for him! Was it a joke?? Where they making fun of him?? They probably were, there was no way two girls that cute would talk to him without a bet in the middle. They seemed serious though…and they had been so nice to him…

Cheerleaders? Being nice to him?? That was a day of many firsts. 

He headed towards his locker, wanting to take out his math book for his next class, when quite a familiar sight caught his attention: It was Emile and Michele, both leaning against a wall with crossed arms and certain air of supremacy, eyes in the watch for another pray. Yuuri recognized the posture immediately, he had been a frequent victim of their strategies, and he had learnt to stay away from them when they looked bored or distracted. It was just an act, they were never distracted. They were always alert, always in the look for someone they could relieve their stresses with. But, for the first time in many years, that someone didn’t seem to be Yuuri. 

He stood still, watching from afar, as they set the trap for certain black haired boy, who was way too distracted by his phone notice he was walking on a minefield. Next second, Phichit Chulanont was tripping over Emile’s extended foot, and hitting his chin against the floor’s hard surface. Michele laughed, taking advantage of the painful impact to take off the guy’s backpack, and throw its every content to the ground. 

“What’s up, blogger boy?” He smirked, grabbing his victim’s now dented lunchbox from the floor, and opening it to see what’s inside “What do we have here?”

Phichit tried to stand up, or at least grab some of his fallen stuff before the hundred passerby feet kicked them away, but Emile made sure he couldn’t move by stepping on his back. 

“Hey! Give it back!” He said, seeing the guy had taken one of his tuna sandwiches and was giving it a pleasant smell. 

“Oh? You want it?” Michele laughed, taking one of the two sandwiches into his mouth, and throwing the other one to the dirty floor right in front of Phichit’s face “Look who’s gonna have to eat from the ground now” 

And, after some chuckles and a proud high-five, they left. Leaving the poor guy sore and frustrated, lying on the hallway like a neglected, torn rug no one cared enough to help. He deserved it, after all. 

Giving a long sigh, he picked up his sandwich and gave it a petty look. Hell, he had no more money, and that was all he had left to eat. He would have to skip lunch that day. At least his other stuff seemed to be ok, except for some papers people passing by hadn’t been careful enough not to step on. It was going to be a long, long day, a long, long week, and probably even a long, long year. He knew he had done the right thing though, Viktor had been honest and clear enough, and he was absolutely right. He did feel much better after telling the truth, it felt like a ton had suddenly flew away from his shoulders. It had been for the better, and he felt better. But that didn’t help the fact he now had to pick up his discarded notes from the ground. 

However, as he was beginning to mutter some insults for both Michele and himself, another pair of hands made a sudden appearance and they began to help him collect his stuff. Confused, he raised his head and looked front, only to find a kneeling Yuuri Katsuki picking his books up from the ground. 

“Hey” He smiled at him, politely, standing up from the ground and offering him a hand. 

“Hey…” Phichit accepted his help, rather wary, fearing it must be a prank and that he would let go and let him fall again. But it didn’t happen.

“Are you ok? It looked like you bumped your face quite badly”

“Yeah, I’m good. It was just the chin” He took an unconscious hand to rub the sore spot, as he tried to decipher why out of all people Yuuri Katsuki was the one being kind “Aren’t you like…furious at me or something?”

“For filing a really private part of my life and make it public?” 

“Well, yeah…”

“Not really” Yuuri shrugged, handing him his books back “Well, at first I was. But you said sorry, didn’t you? And I think that was pretty awesome and brave. Plus, I have to admit I did laugh with Michele’s hotdog video” 

Phichit laughed, putting his things back in his bag, and gifting the other a wide, wholehearted smile. 

“Thanks…only that now all the school wants me dead. I got like…three wedgies today” 

Yuuri chuckled, rolling his eyes. 

“Welcome to my life”

_“To be hurt, to feel lost_  
_To be left out in the dark_  
_To be kicked when you're down_  
_To feel like you've been pushed around”_

Phichit started badly singing, and Yuuri swore he had never been so confused in his entire life. 

“What?” He asked, arching a trained brow on purpose. 

“Oh sorry” The other laughed uncomfortably, blushing slightly “You reminded me to that Simple Plan song” 

“Oh, I know which one” He exclaimed, making his best to recall the lyrics from that dark stage of his life which was seventh grade _“To be on the age of breaking down, and no one’s there to save youuuuuu!”_

“ _But you don’t know what it’s likeeeee…WELCOME TO MY LIFEEE!”_ They both finished the chorus in unison, just a bit louder than they would have preferred, and broke into childish laughter right away. 

“Ok, that was weird” Phichit giggled, unable to believe there was someone on earth who would follow his randomness.

“YOU are weird” Yuuri mocked, joyful “Who listens to Simple Plan nowadays, anyways?” 

“Uhm…you? You know the lyrics by heart too?” 

“We all had that phase, ok??” He chuckled, and unfamiliar yet pleasant feeling ticking at his gut. Other people made him uncomfortable, it usually took him quite a long time to chill around others and speak without stuttering. But, somehow, this guy had a reputation as bad and pathetic as his, and he didn’t feel like he should impress him or anything. Plus…Simple Plan? Really? 

“Wow, I can’t believe you are actually so cool…I’m really sorry for what I did” Phichit said awkwardly, unable to get rid of the guilt, and pushed Yuuri’s sanity into the void. 

Him?? Cool???? In the same sentence????? 

“Uhm, lets just don’t talk about that” He stammered, fixing his glasses back in place “I’ve got to go though, I wanted to ask for a book in the library before the bell rings” 

“Me too!” the guy jumped excitedly, following him around like a hype dog “We can go together!” 

“Only if you promise not to make me sing Simple Plan again”

“I can’t promise anything” Phichit winked and they both laughed, walking down the hallway together, humming the melody to “Welcome to my life” again just to bother the other. 

That was, now definitely, a day of many firsts. 

 

 

Viktor left his office walking through a sea of depressed teenagers throwing their dirty, hormonal hands at him like they were asking for emotional alms. After that day, he promised he would never watch The Walking Dead ever again. Hell, he even considered exiting through the window. But his reputation was apparently skyrocketing, and he didn’t want to ruin everything with a classic-Viktor (which means an unnecessary idiocy). So, as soon as the bell rang and chanted his freedom, he gulp down two mouthfuls of vodka directly from the bottle and ran through the crowd outside his office like a rhinoceros. He just wanted some peace. And food. 

In one hand he was really happy kids trusted him and told him his problems, but on the other he had no idea of what he was doing. Seriously, what the shit were counselors supposed to do?? Kids were stressing! In just three hours, he had to deal with some pot addicts, some hyper hysterical children, a pregnant chick and, I shit you not, a guy who was planning on quitting school to become a professional stripper in some other town. 

Live your dreams, kid. 

Shit, at least Yuuri was smart enough not to trust him that much. These poor souls actually thought of him as a professional. Like, a REAL professional. He couldn’t fuck up, and he was doing the best as he could. They all seemed to leave his office quite content, and the school hadn’t announced a mourning day yet so…he couldn’t be THAT bad. All he did was listen and be sincere. He had the feeling those kids didn’t need to feel like they were talking to a smiling wall, they needed some feedback, some answers, some advice, maybe. They needed to feel like they were not alone. Why were all kids so lonely nowadays? Didn’t their parents listen to them? That’s it, that was the problem. 

Those kids needed no counselor. They needed a parent. 

At least there were come moments to escape the drama when some kids asked him for help with some schoolwork. That was nice, mostly. Some students had problems at organizing their thoughts and communicating their ideas, or maybe at understanding the questions during exams. And who could be more helpful than a communication’s graduate? Others just asked him to talk with some teachers they thought were being “unfair” or literally “bitches”, and try to negotiate a better treatment, somehow. That was the worst, considering he hated every other teacher. Except Christophe. Christophe was cool. 

After stretching his numb muscles a bit, he made his way to the cafeteria to grab his well-deserved lunch. But as he was walking he saw Yurio getting some stuff from his locker, and of course it was much more important to bug him. 

“Yurio!” He exclaimed merrily, extending his arms for a hug “Long time no see!” 

“Fuck off” The kid pushed him away, as friendly as always, and attempted to walk away “Leave me alone” 

“Not so fast, fella!” Obviously, it was hard to escape 5’11 feet of annoyance, as Viktor kept getting in his way.

“What the fuck do you want?”

“Woah, don’t be so salty, take it easy!” The man waved his hands, telling him to calm down “Try to forget about our previous awkward familiar meetings…I’m the counselor now, and I wanted to tell you I’m here for you in case you need any-”

“Cut the crap, shithead, I know you are no psychologist” Yurio bickered, narrowing his eyes and showing his teeth like an angry feline stepping his ground “I know you are a just a living failure with daddy issues, so please stay the fuck out of my way” 

He turned to leave, posture firm and as defiant as ever. But before he could turn around, Viktor grabbed him by the face and forced him to look at him. For the first time since he stepped into that school, he looked dead serious. No silly smile, no glint in his eyes. Just the full intensity of his daunting stare, all concentrated and overwhelming, digging into Yurio’s soul. 

“Listen to me, kid. I’m just doing my job, ok? Don’t make things harder for me” He tightened his grip and got even closer, staring at him in the eye with painful accuracy “You can’t go around treating other people like shit, do I make myself clear?”

“Let go” Yurio pushed his hand away, and gave a step back with quite a poisonous look. But Viktor wasn’t scared, he knew his little intimidation tricks already. 

“Anyways…” The man sighed, returning to his usual, calm smile, and taking his hands to his pockets “Have you joined any extra classes yet? You have time until next week, you know?”

“Why do you care??” 

“Well, I’m the counselor, after all” He shrugged, almost mockingly “I think it would be good for you to join a club. That way you may use your horrible emotions for something productive. Or maybe even talk with other human beings, who knows?”

“You are such a pain in the ass” Yurio turned around, actually parting this time, leaving the other to speak to the empty air “Stop getting into my life” 

Viktor rolled his eyes, giving up for the day, knowing he might have lost this battle but that the war wasn’t over just yet.

“Such a pleasure to chat with you, Yurio!” He chirped, waving goodbye ironically.

“I told you a hundred times that’s not my fucking name!!!” Was the last thing he heard from him as he disappeared into the crowd, hood on and earphones plugged, looking as lonely and lost as ever. 

Viktor knew he had to try to get into a counselor’s shoes, but it was kind of hard to play that role with Yurio. Not after he had known him for such a long time, and let’s just say his salty personality didn’t help to make it work. He knew there was no point in playing his cards on him, he knew no play would make him open up and speak to him. To be honest, he doubted that kid would ever open up to anyone.

But he had certain tricks up the sleeve yet, and he needed to find his partner in crime to help him pull them out. 

And by that of course he meant Yuuri.

As he made his way into the cafeteria and winked at the cook for some extra meatloaf, Viktor began to look around for his favorite student, assuming he was probably eating all by himself at some neglected corner. However, when he did spot him, the sight he got was totally different than expected: sitting at one of the front tables and willingly sharing his food, there was his shy Yuuri Katsuki engaged in what seemed an amusing conversation with Phichit Chulanont. 

They looked so excited and happy, just like two little puppies! They kept smiling at each other and laughing, looking so much comfortable than they did in his office. He remembered how both of them had confessed their troubles to make friends, and how they both felt lonely. And right then, watching them chat together and giggle like that, it was almost a piece of art. 

Viktor grinned, getting back the tickles of that newfound feeling of pride he had gotten while watching Phichit’s video the other day. Yuuri seemed happy, and he was talking to other kids. That was such a huge step, damn, he was overwhelmed. 

Deciding not to interrupt, he took his tray to another table. Maybe he could eat with the other aggravating teachers just for the day. 

 

 

“I can’t believe you are making me do this” Yuuri could feel his heart racing, his eyes wide an alert and his hair on end like a deer in headlights, as he kept himself from fainting by getting hold of the principal’s office door “This is bad, so bad! Isn’t this trespassing?? Viktor, if we get caught, I swear to god I’ll…”

“Shhh, take it easy” The man answered from the comfort of Minako’s huge and cozy spinning chair, as he browsed for certain file in her computer “Technically, you are not trespassing, you are just watching the door” 

That didn’t help to soothe his nerves. At all. 

“I know but…why me?? Why am I doing this?? Minako hates me! I won’t be able to stop her if she wants to get in!” 

“Stop thinking everyone hates you, Yuuri” Viktor rolled his eyes.

“But she does! She really does! Don’t you remember that look she gave me when I tripped over the music department’s stuff?? Gosh, she wanted to kill me!” 

“You are so dramatic!” He whined, opening yet another folder and snorting when he saw it wasn’t what he was looking for “Plus, didn’t you want to help Yurio?? This is your chance!” 

The boy grimaced, giving Viktor a nasty look from across the door, before returning to his watching duty.

“I’m not expert or anything but like…isn’t the counselor supposed to, I don’t know…TALK with the students, instead of signing them in for classes without their consent??” 

“Pfft, do you seriously think Yurio would listen to me??” He heard him answer from inside the office. And, although he wasn’t watching him, he could perfectly picture that silly, obstinate look on his face “Te plan is perfect! If we sign him in, he’ll have to attend or he’ll fail! This is for his own good, I know he needs that class!” 

“If you say so…” He shook his head and shrugged, eyes lost on the thankfully empty hallway “If you get us caught though, I swear I-”

“Found it!!” Viktor cut him off, way too excited for politeness, desperately clicking into Yuri Plisetsky’s personal folder of data.

“Great!” He whispered, not wanting to make a fuss “Now sign him in for art quickly, before the principal comes back to-”

“Katsuki?” 

Have you ever whipped cream until it stiffens? Well, Yuuri’s blood did exactly that inside his veins as soon as he hard Minako’s voice right next to him. He tried to gulp down his shock but almost ends up throwing up instead. Did he look as suspicious as he thought he did? Probably, Minako didn’t seem to take it. 

“Oh, eh, uhm…hello, Miss. Okukawa” He took a glance inside, as quick as not to be noticed by the principal, but enough to realize Viktor hadn’t even attempted to move his stupid ass from his seat and was still using the computer.

“What are you doing in my office? Do you need something?” She stared at him like she could smell the oddness in the air, but quite not understanding the odor was coming from inside her office and not from the poor, sweaty teenager trying to invent an excuse “Go home, kid. Classes are over for the day” 

She made a move to push the door, but before she could reach the handle Yuuri threw his body in front of her as if he were receiving a bullet. 

“Wait!” He blurted out, before he could even think of a proper alibi, and felt the weight of the woman’s stare beginning to sink into his sanity. Gosh, she probably despised him so much! He could clearly see the hatred accumulating between those knitted brows, it was so evident! “I…ehm, uhm…” 

He was incredibly fluent at stuttering, apparently. Thankfully Minako didn’t seem to be familiar with the language, otherwise she would have noticed the kid was basically wishing Viktor a painful death. Hadn’t he even attempted to move yet?? Taking another quick glance inside he noticed that, effectively, he hadn’t.

“Katsuki…” That was it, that was the tone of doom. She was probably going to tell him to fuck off, to stop wasting her precious time like that, and then she would get into the office and catch the counselor red handed. As she extended her hand forwards, as if she were going to push the door, the boy clenched his eyes shut. Getting ready for the screaming, getting ready for a possible punishment, basically awaiting what seemed an inevitable death. However, instead of the sound of opening hinges and infuriated screams, there was a warm, gentle hand on his shoulder. Light and careful, feeling like kerchief compared to his rock-hard, tensed muscles. And he opened his eyes to an equally gentle expression of concern displayed on the woman’s face “Yuuri, are you ok?” 

“Huh?” The sound leaving his lips was so sure, so raw from the soul he almost sounded like a whelp. Minako, that rough, intimidating woman, was staring at him with the softest of eyes. Not annoyed, not pitiful, but genuinely fond and caring.

“Is this because of what happened the other day at the presentation? Are you feeling bad about that?” 

He couldn’t reply, there was no storage of answers for that inside his confused, little head. So he just nodded shyly, way too puzzled to even feel bad about lying, forgetting just for a second his real reason to be there: hiding a grown-ass man as he got into his boss’s computer. 

“Look, Yuuri, you don’t ever have to feel ashamed of your passions, you know? I wanted to be a ballerina as a kid, and I was actually pretty good, but my parents forced me into education since they said I needed a “real” job. To this day, there’s nothing I regret as much as abandoning ballet” She gifted him a sad smile, which he was too shocked to even return “Whenever I see someone dancing…when I saw YOU dancing the other day…I get this damn feeling in my chest and I hear this voice in my head that’s like “damn, that could be me”. So don’t give up on your dreams, boy. Others’ opinions mean nothing” 

Yuuri suddenly got that warm, cozy feeling of safety you get under the covers of your parents’ bed. The sheets are ordinary, and so were Minako’s words. Cliché, even. But from her mouth, coming from someone he respected that much, it had some kind of bullet-proof effect. Indestructible. He felt as supported as he had felt in years. 

He still hadn’t find the proper words to answer, but his expression must have been thankful enough, judging by the satisfied grin now outlined on the woman’s face. 

“If you were expecting me to expulse whoever pranked you that way, I have no solid prove so I can’t do it, unfortunately” She half-joked, letting go of her hold on his shoulder “And I seriously don’t think I can do much more about this…I’m not the counselor” 

No, the real counselor was currently trespassing into her office and messing up with the school’s private files. 

Which reminded him…HOW WAS HE GOING TO GET OUT OF THERE??? 

This time, when Minako aimed for the door, Yuuri’s mind was somewhere else and he wasn’t fast enough to stop her. His plain reaction was a panic shriek, followed by more desperate mumbling that didn’t even make sense whatsoever about lame excuses of why she should stay outside for a little longer. But she was not really listening, as he opened the door to her office either way. Again, for the second time in five minutes, Yuuri closed his eyes and awaited death.

However, destiny seemed to be paying him off for almost nineteen years of bad luck since, once he dared to look inside, the office was empty. 

_Where did…? How did he even…?_

“Weird…” Minako commented, walking inside “I don’t remember opening the window” 

He blinked, not really good at hiding how horrified he was. 

Did he…? No, there was no way…they were on a second floor! 

“Hello, Minako!” The bubbly, oh so familiar voice came back from the dead right behind his back, and Yuuri had never been so close to screaming bloody murder just by the feel of a foreign hand on his shoulder. Was that what heart failure felt like? 

“Viktor?” The woman offered him a very well-deserved look of distrust, as she sat down at her desk and began to put some papers away “Your working hours ended a while ago, what are you still doing here?” 

“Oh, I just forgot something at my office, silly me!” The man looked so stupid in Yuuri’s eyes, with that stupid heart-shaped smile who couldn’t fool anyone and a leave hanging from the back of his hair. Was Minako really that bad at exposing liers? Or had he really spent enough time with Viktor to notice just how fake he looked right then? “But I saw you were still here and decided to pass by and say hello…or goodbye, whatever!” 

“I see…” She scratched her head, getting back to work “Have you met Yuuri yet? I think he might want to talk to you one of these days” 

There was a moment of awkward synchronization, in which both of them turned to look at the other at the same time. Only that while Yuuri was nervously trying to discuss what lie to stick on, Viktor was smiling cheekily. 

“Yeah, we met before!” He said, giving the boy a pat on the back “We are currently working on his confidence, since he seems to feel like everyone looks down on him for no reason”

Yuuri frowned at him, blushing slightly, trying to keep his anger inside their mutual bubble of understanding.

“Really? Who would think badly of him? He’s such a good kid” 

His eyes bugged out and Viktor smirked at him, glad to prove his point, ruffling his hair like one of those awkward adults in TV commercials.

“I know, right?” He said, smiling fondly “Well, I guess I should get going” 

“Go ahead” Minako waved “I need to finish some paperwork and then I’ll leave too”

“Good afternoon, Miss. Okukawa” Yuuri bowed, politely “And thank you for everything” 

“Goodbye kid, go home and rest”

The door to the office was closed, and both counselor and student found themselves standing in the hallway alone, silent, not really believing they had really got along with their plan without their deserved punishment. And, as a matter of fact, all they could really do in a moment like that, was falling into a laughing fit. 

“Did you seriously jumped through the window??” Yuuri slurred between chuckles, covering his mouth, and Viktor swore would have paid for him to remove that hand away from his face and see him smile. 

“Worth it” He said, way too aware of how the boy’s cheeks seemed to get a pretty shade of red when he laughed “Yurio’s now unwillingly part of the art club” 

“He’ll kill you when he finds out, I can’t believe you just did that” Laughter was still ticking his throat, and it was hard to talk without bursting out again “You’ve got a leaf in your hair”

“A what?” 

“A leaf” He giggled “From the bushes under the window, probably”

“Oh” Viktor attempted to shake it off, but he didn’t know where it was exactly.

“Here, let me help you” Yuuri took a careful hand to the side of his head, and untangled a small, green leaf from a lock of silver hair “There” 

“Thanks” The man watched him closely, just how shiny those brown eyes could get when he smiled, whoa. He was mesmerized. How could someone be so lovely without even noticing? It was maddening. 

“I’ve got to go. I’m late for work and I don’t want Yuuko to get mad at me…I’m afraid she doesn’t like me that much” 

“Again with the pessimism?” Viktor looked askance at him, crossing his arms.

“It’s for real! She thinks I’m incompetent…” 

“Just like Minako? He mocked, enjoying the face he made whenever he pulled his leg.

“Goodbye, Viktor” Yuuri walked away, giving his back at the not-so-grown-up, afraid he would be late again “See you tomorrow” 

And right then, after Viktor saw Yuuri Katsuki laughing for the very first time, he promised himself he wouldn’t rest until he saw him that happy everyday. 

 

 

“What do you mean they asked you to be a cheerleader??" Phichit asked between continues bites to his hamburger, as they walked together through the darkening neighborhood “Dude, you should have accepted!” 

“And sink my reputation even lower? Yeah, sure” 

They had been talking to each other for about a week now, with all conversations started by Phichit, of course, since Yuuri was still not over his social anxiety. He was really happy someone finally asked him to hang out after classes. Like, for real. Not some lame excuse he invented for his mother not to worry when he got home late. He had allowed himself to break his diet and ate some fries at McDonalds, since his new friend’s comment about his cut back was: WHAT THE HELL WHY?? YOU ARE SO FIT?? and he even invited him the food. 

“But the cheerleaders are so popular and beautiful!” The pal was insistent “If I danced like you I would have joined right away!”

“No way! With everyone looking at me?? So embarrassing!” Yuuri smiled and hid his face behind his pack of fries “Plus, I’m not that good! I could never-”

“You are not that good!?” Phichit almost choked on his food “Dude, did you read the comments on your dancing video??” 

“Uhm…no?” As he answered, his friend fished for his phone inside his pocket and desperately typed into the browser the link to Hasetsurumorhasit.com “Why would I torture myself that way?” 

“Just read” 

He was handed the phone and he grabbed it fretfully, not really trusting he wanted to see what he was about to. His reaction though, was utter shock and low-key mortification. 

_“OMG, SIGN ME THE FUCK UP”_

_“HE IS SO TALENTED, DAMN”_

_“WHO IS THIS KID?? HE’S AMAZING”_

_“WHY DID ANYONE TOLD ME I WENT TO SCHOOL WITH J-LO??”_

Phichit laughed at that one, but Yuuri was plainly taken aback, speechless. He had stopped walking at some point, as well of breathing. The only muscles he was able to move were the ones in his thumb that allowed him to continue scrolling down through the comment section. 

_“HE IS FANTASTIC”_

_“GREAT”_

_“FABULOUS DANCER”_

_“GAY AS FUCK”_

“Uhm, lets jut ignore Michele’s one” Phichit suggested, taking the phone away from his friend’s petrified hands to search for something himself “Look at this one” 

_“YUURI’S HIPS DON’T FUCKIN LIE” ___

__Ok, that one was actually really funny, and a small giggle managed to echo through Yuuri’s stiffened chest. So that’s what everyone thought?? It was still embarrassing, if not more, but at least it was nice to know most of them didn’t think he looked ridiculous. Apparently, it was just him._ _

__They walked, singing the lyrics to that silly Shakira song, until they reached the small grocery store where their paths merged, and he said goodbye to Phichit for the day. Was it going to become a habit for them to sing random music? He wasn’t sure, but it wasn’t like he had any objections._ _

__Whoa, it was nighttime already. Apparenly, time flies when you are not alone. The same thing had happened some weeks ago, with Viktor, walking those same streets at about that same time of the evening. He released a petty sigh, lost in thought. It had been some days since he visited the counselor’s office. Mainly, since he didn’t want to bother. He knew Viktor was really busy lately, and that he didn’t have time to listen to his useless rants. After all, it wasn’t like it would change anything. The man was really kind and all but…did Yuuri really trust him enough to open up? He doubted it._ _

__Reaching for his keys, he opened the door and instinctively stiffened his legs to receive Vicchan’s usual barking and lapping assault. However, he received no furry greeting. Confused, he began whistling and clapping, thinking maybe he was sleeping somewhere, or maybe Mari had accidentally locked him up in the bathroom again._ _

__“Vicchan!” He called, knowing the dog surely missed him all day. He had missed him, too “Vicchan, boy! I’m home!”_ _

__But there was no barking, no soft snoring, nor paws scratching at the bathroom’s door. Where had he gone? Had somebody taken him out for a walk? That was usually his duty, he doubted Mari would be in a good enough mood to start doing his chores for him._ _

__He hanged his coat on the main hall’s rack, and went to check at the living room. But instead of Vicchan, he found his family sitting down in silence, turning to look at him like he had just walked into an interment._ _

__“Mom? Dad? You are home early” He commented, wanting to get happy about it, but something in the air just wouldn’t let him. His father wasn’t telling silly hotel anecdotes, the house didn’t smell like his mother’s katsudon, and Mari hadn’t dared to look at him in the eye since he stepped the room. Something was wrong, something was very, very wrong “What’s going on?”_ _

__“Sit down, Yuuri” His father patted the place right next to his at the sofa, looking as solemn as Yuuri knew he could “We need to talk”_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all know that happened...don't you? I'm sorry, I know I'm a piece of shit. 
> 
> Please leave a comment! I'm craviNG COMMENTS PLEASE IM DESPERATE! YES, I'M TALKING TO ALL OF YOU, PHANTOM READERS.


	5. All you need is love...and maybe some vodka

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BUCKLE UP KIDS I BRING YOU THE ANGSTY RIDE.  
> This chapter has a nice ending...I promise.

After what had been a tiring day of work, Viktor went to bed with no worries in mind and some tasty Chinese take-out in his stomach. It wasn't normal for him to fall before midnight, but it had been an intense week, with so many students and teachers driving him nuts, that by eleven thirty he was already soundly asleep and drooling all over Makkachin's fur.

Slowly, things at school were beginning to finally settle in place. Yuuri had stopped visiting him as frequently as before, but he assumed it may be for the better if that meant the boy didn't have problems to share and discuss. He kind of missed him, he truly did, but he had quite an avalanche of other teens who needed his attention in the meantime. 

Even though it was stressing and time-consuming, he realized he actually enjoyed talking to the kids. After studying business-oriented communication for years, he had forgotten what communication was really all about on the first place: people. Real people. Talking, sharing, feeling...kids had lots of feelings, apparently. And it was his job to do something about it. 

Maybe the oh so prestigious writer of the Counseling for Dummies book would have hanged him for this, but he was growing fond of the students. And what's more, he knew the students were growing fond of him.

He knew rules were there for a reason, and that maybe he would get to regret his overly-emotional methods in the future. But, right then, he couldn't really care less. The kids looked happy, and he was happy. Or at least, happier than he had been in a long time.

In fact, that day had been the first time in many years he had managed to fall asleep without taking his pills.

However, the bliss that was profound sleep didn't last long on him, as his rest was interrupted by the sudden ringing of his phone. 

Confused, dazed, and way too gone to be annoyed just yet, he extended a clumsy hand to his night table and began touching everything in the hope he may be able to answer without having to open his eyes. Of course, he couldn't. And despite the crusts in his lacrimals, the heaviness of his lids, and his biological NEED to just ignore it and go back to dream land, Viktor faced the blinding light of the screen and took a look at the caller's ID. 

An unregistered number?? At twenty past three in the morning???? Who could possibly call him that late?? Was it a prank call? He doubted it, he always kept his phone on during the nights, since he used it as an alarm in the mornings. And in all of the years he did so, never had he been woken up by a call that late.

Either way, being it because he was polite or way too tired to protest, he answered.

"Hello?" he mumbled, voice groggy and dry, and lips sealed by sleep.

"Vi-Viktor??" 

One second. It took one single second for his blood to stoop it's every course. One, just one second, to feel the lap of cold sweat now damping the back of his neck. In just one second, he was suddenly fully awake. Grasping at the phone, wanting to squeeze the other's voice out from the speaker, wishing he had actually misheard. In just one second, the last two months replayed inside his head.

"Yuuri??" he babbled, tongue numbed by shock, as he untangled himself out from the covers "Is that you??"

"Vi-Viktor I..." He was painting, heavily sobbing, and there was something else in his voice Viktor wasn't really able to tell "Ple-please help-p me"

Viktor's heart was pumping nitrogen as he jumped out of bed and got dressed. Makkachin was startled, unused to the night time movement, watching his owner put on some trousers with only one free hand. 

"Yuuri what happened?? Are you ok??" There was no immediate answer, just more heavy, clogged breaths and lots of background noise "Yuuri?? Yuuri, talk to me!" 

"I'm so so-sorry for everyth-thing! I'm always such a bu-burden!" He wasn't answering his questions, just crying and blabbering, putting Viktor's nerves on edge. Why was he talking that way?? So clumsily and yet shameless… unafraid to expose his grief. What was wrong with him?? "I didn't want to call Viktor bu-but I...I just...drunk this stuff and…" 

Realization suddenly hit him like merciless slap, and he ran to look for his car keys.

"Are you at The Madmen Cage??" 

Yuuri was drunk.

He heard a positive humming noise, and in a blink he had grabbed an extra jacket and a bucket from the kitchen and was running down the stairs and towards the flat's garage. 

"I feel so si-sick, I wa-want to go home!" he coughed, choking on his own tears, mumbling a tangled ball of words and spit "Viktor p-please help m-me, I feel so bad"

"Calm down, Yuuri, breathe. I'm coming, ok? Just stay where you are" he stuck his phone between his cheek and his shoulder and started the engine "Don't hang up on me, keep talking" 

"I'm sorry! I'm so s-so-sorry! I'm all dirty and-" there was a pause for coughing, and judging by the obvious noises he made, Viktor assumed he had just thrown up "Please, don't le-leave me alone. Please come! I need you he-here!" 

"I'm on my way, Yuuri. Are you inside the bar? Is there someone with you?" 

"My head won't stop sp-spinning and… where am I? I don't know whe-where I am" before the sudden realization, he started sobbing even harder "Please take me home! I feel so-so bad, I want to di-die!"

Viktor's chest ached, not metaphorically, in no figurative sense, but a real, acute pain actually throbbing beneath his ribcage. Wasn't Yuuri supposed to be better? Hadn't all of his efforts helped him get through his usual struggles? He had done all he possibly could, he had thrown him all the ropes he had at the reach of his hand, but it still didn't seem to be enough. Yuuri was still distrustful, and he was still depressed. 

"Yuuri, please answer me: where are you? Are you safe? Is there someone with you??"

"There was...there was th-these guys. I don't know where they are" What was he talking about?? Damn, he was way too out of his mind. How much did he even drink?? It was no way similar to what he saw the night they met. He sounded wrecked, heavily intoxicated, and Viktor just prayed he wouldn't need to call an ambulance "I... the toilets wh-where there. Are they in the toilets?" 

"I don't know what you are talking about, my boy" He sighed, painfully frustrated, cursing every red traffic light and their seemingly complot against him "Who are you talking about? Who are they?"

"I don't kn-know, but..." He heard someone talking in the background, barely audible due to Yuuri's ragged breath against the speaker. There was a way too long pause "I'm scared, Vi-Viktor, please come! Don't leave m-me!"

"I'm almost there, Yuuri. Hold on" Viktor had to leave the phone aside to park properly, just in front of the bar's front entrance. But, when he picked it up again, he heard no more breathing on the other end of the line "Yuuri?? Yuuri!! Are you there??" 

There was no answer.

His hands were trembling so horribly he couldn’t even open the car’s door. He had to give a deep breath before he was able to get a hold of the handle and eject himself out of the vehicle and into the bar, like he was running a race with the beating of his own accelerated heart.

Nothing escaped his restless, hound eyes from the endless tracking, wanting to find nothing but the sweet, soothing brown of the boy’s stare. Its gentleness, its glint, the way they lidded when he did that lovely little grin. He needed, more than anything right then, to see him outline that face again. But it was nowhere to be seen among the flashing colour lights and the fogging clouds of smoke, between that gaudy frenzy of music and the smell of cheap nicotine, as he pushed every single faceless drunkard in the crowd and made his way through the dancing mass. 

“Yuuri!” He called, screaming at the top of his lungs, yet sounding like whisper beneath the thundering bass of the current song playing “Yuuri, where are-?” 

“Viktor!” There suddenly was a big, heavy hand resting on his shoulder, and he turned to look at a much distressed Celestino, who looked way too relieved to find him “Over here!” 

The man grabbed him by the wrist, not even attempting an explanation within the music and the drunkard euphoria, and pulled him through the horde without offering any questions or answers. As he allowed himself to be guided towards the bar, breathless and numbed by so many different suppositions and their so many different levels of concern, he couldn’t help but blame himself. 

He didn’t know what he was about to see, he had no clue on how Yuuri was doing, what had happened, why he had called HIM of all people. But what he did know, was that it was probably his fault. He hadn’t paid enough attention to him after his office reached its boom. He had assumed that just because he wasn’t asking for help, he didn’t need it. When that was the main problem on the first place: the boy didn’t know how to ask for help until he reached a breaking point. 

And he was terrified, of just how broken he could get this time. 

Celestino gave a long sigh as soon as they were out of the mob, taking him behind the bar and towards an employee’s only area, and he was welcomed by the hysterical sound of sobbing and the smell of badly mopped puke. Viktor had to cover his mouth for the last remaining air in his lungs not to leave him. There, sitting in the middle of a filthy pantry, heavily sweating and trembling violently, cried a white as a sheet Yuuri Katsuki, cocooned inside a dirty tablecloth.

“Yuuri??” The name came out as a whisper, broken and shaky, as he approached him with the gentleness one approaches an endangered species “Oh Yuuri, what happened to you?” 

As soon as he heard his voice, Yuuri raised his head with a trembling gasp. His eyes were watery and bloodshot, opening wide in disbelief as soon as he saw Viktor getting closer, almost dropping the bottle of water he was holding in hand. 

“Viktor?” He sobbed, damn, his voice sounded even worst in person “You ca-came?” 

“Of course, of course I came” Was the only answer he could come up with, as he ducked in front of him and stroked his shivering face. Fuck, he was freezing “Just calm down, please. Breathe” 

The guy complied, inhaling deeply, and taking the water bottle back to his lips and swallowing, before he started retching once again.

“No, boy! I told you not to drink it!” Celestino complained, ripping the bottle away from his hands. But it was too late, the kid had thrown up again. The bartender sighed, rolling up his sleeves, and signalling the janitor to hand him the mop once more “You are just supposed to wash your mouth and spit. You swallow, you puke. Got it?” 

Yuuri nodded, exhausted by the mere effort of vomiting, and whipped his mouth with the back of his hand. The more Viktor stared at him, the more he felt he would puke himself. Yet, for completely different reasons. The acid feeling pumping up and down between his throat and his stomach, swirling in his chest like a whirl he couldn’t get rid of, was in no way similar to badly digested alcohol. 

“What happened to him?” He asked busy Celestino, still in trance, punishing himself with the inevitable need of staring at the boy in the eye. 

“I’m not sure, but I noticed something was wrong since the moment he stepped into the bar” Sturdy hands picked the mop and wiped that same spot of the floor for the fourth time that night “He usually just drinks until he is tipsy enough to dance without his own restrictions. But today he wouldn’t leave the bar, he just sat down with the most absent of expressions and let the usual wooers buy him drinks. A guy like him doesn’t last sober in a place like this, you know?” He snorted, damping the mop once again and giving a long, worried sigh as he continued to wash away the mess “I’ve never seen Eros drink that much, he let any guy play with him for a glass. I should have stopped him sooner…”

Viktor rubbed his temples, trying to massage the headache away, but his jaw was clenched way too tightly and his thoughts kept buzzing and the throbbing just wouldn’t go away. He offered Yuuri his shoulder, seeing the bench he was sitting at had no backrest, and maybe he wanted to relax. But the kid needed more than that. Eagerly, even desperate, he took his counselor’s hand and held it tight against his chest. He hugged his arm like his life depended on it, wrapping himself around it like a scared octopus, or like a needy child who didn’t want to get into preschool. That arm, that ordinary arm , had just become his anchor, his axis, his everything. Rubbing his face on it, absorbing its heat, he tried to regulate his body temperature that went from freezing skin and limbs to an ablaze stomach and throat burning by the acids of vomit. He moaned, blissful, as he felt safe and stable for the first time in hours. Closing his eyes and resting his head on him, made it seem like the world wasn’t spinning anymore. Like he hadn’t just emptied his stomach and his lacrimals, like he wasn’t at the back of a bar, wrapped in a dirty tablecloth, like he didn’t have that awful taste in his mouth and heart, like everything wasn’t a mess. Like HE wasn’t a mess. If he only knew for Viktor it was the other way around… 

“There were this guys, I think there was three of them, who had been buying him drinks for a while, openly flirting. But Eros was too gone to even mind them” Celestino kept recalling the events, a hint of remorse audible in his voice, as he put the mop away “I turned around for a second, just to prepare an order, and when I looked back they were dragging him to the toilets. I swear, Viktor…” He put a hand on his shoulder, looking at him dead in the eye “I swear the poor boy couldn’t even walk, fuck, he couldn’t even move! He was so lost and wasted these assholes were dragging and touching him and he couldn’t even voice a protest! I know I’m the bartender, and I have no business getting into other’s lives. I’ve seen morons who take advantage of drunkards a hundred times before but…never like this. Never with someone so young, so helpless…with that innocent, saddened look in his eyes. Damn, it looked like they were carrying a corpse, touching him, tugging at his clothes…” He sighed for the twentieth time that night, taking a look to the broken boy now weeping onto the other’s shoulder, and guilt pinched him once again right in the pit of the stomach “I intervened then, but I should have done it sooner. I’m sorry” 

“It’s ok” Viktor brushed dark strands of hair hardened by dry styling-gel, unable to take his eyes off the wrecked kid, fearing something could happen just by blinking and losing sight of him “I understand” 

“Thankfully, the guys didn’t start a fight and I didn’t have to call security. But as soon as I took Eros away and tried to walk him outside, he started wobbling and retching and threw up in a corner. You have no idea how wasted he was, to say now he looks better is a fact! His eyes were out of focus and he couldn’t blurt out a proper word. And, just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, he started with the crying ” He took a napkin from his pocket, and gently began to wipe some rests of vomit that had jumped into the kid’s clothes “So I brought him here and told him to call someone to pick him up. I’m glad he called his boyfriend, honestly, parents could have brought more problems”

Viktor looked at him like he were looking to the camera of a really bad comedy show.

“I’m not his boyfriend” He corrected, for the first time aware of just how odd the situation was overall “I’m his counselor” 

Now it was Celestino’s turn to feel like he was on a ridiculous soap opera. Or maybe a prank show. But to be honest, he was way too tired and stressed to even question the happenings. 

“Oh…I just thought that since, you know, the last time you were here together you-“

“Yeah, yeah, I know” Viktor cut him off, fearing alcohol wouldn’t be enough to distract a certain clueless drunkard from the conversation “But life is weird, you know?” 

It took them like five solid minutes to make Yuuri stand up gently enough to prevent more cleaning. But once he was onto his feet and clinging from Viktor’s side, they realized he couldn’t even bare his own weight. So, even more carefully, the man had to lift him up. 

“Viktor??” He asked fretfully, yet wrapping his wobbly arms around his neck for support "What's going on??" 

"Shhh, don't worry. I'm here" He rubbed his back, trying to keep him calm, feeling like those mothers he saw in public trying to keep their babies from doing tantrums. Only this was a much bigger, heavier baby. And a pretty much wasted one to add "I'll take you to my car, ok? Just try not to puke for now"

Yuuri nodded clumsily and sunk his face into the crook of his saviour’s neck, smelling and engulfing in that lovely smell he was sure he had smelt somewhere else. Meanwhile, Celestino acted as some kind of plow truck, pushing people out of the way for Viktor to make it to the exit and into the car, where they buckled him up on the companion's front seat.

"Here" Viktor wrapped the brown jacket around his shivering shoulders and handed him the bucket "Please try to puke in there if you feel dizzy, got it?" 

He stroked his cheek with his thumb before he turned to get into the driver's seat, but before he could close the door, Yuuri grabbed him by the shirt with weak, trembling fingers and tried to pull him close once more. 

"No! D-don't leave me!" he cried, genuinely upset, as he saw the man was trying to walk away "I...I want...p-please no...!" 

"I'm not going anywhere, Yuuri. I just need to close the door so that we can leave. So let go..." he didn't seem to understand, since he just kept clenching further onto his torso "Yuuri, please" 

"Let me help you" Celestino got in between their tangled bodies, much for Yuuri's distress, and none of them were actually surprised when the boy started crying again "Ero- I mean, Yuuri" He tried, using a much authoritative voice than Viktor had, and evading those teary puppy dog eyes that could have broke his posture with just one single glance "Yuuri, stay in your seat and wait. Viktor will be there in a second"

And, without giving time for complaints, he closed the door.

"You seem to be fond of him" Viktor commented, handing him back the filthy tablecloth he had given Yuuri to warm up.

"I plead guilty" Celestino declared, rubbing the stress away from his face "I mean...who wouldn't? He is such a good kid" 

"I know" There was not a hint of uncertainty in his voice "If only he were aware of it... I wonder what happened to make him do something like this to himself"

"Even though I like him visiting the bar, I got really upset when I saw him walk in today" Celestino confessed, and earned a much puzzled look from the other man "I mean...he rarely came this past month, and he wasn't hooking up with anybody. I was starting to think maybe he was dating you and that he was happier. But tonight proved me wrong" 

Viktor looked down, for the first time understanding those shy students like Yuuri when they lowered their gaze in pity. There was a mild, proud sense of accomplishment trying to sprout inside him, but it was immediately smashed by the remorse of the current happenings. He had been right all along, all that kid needed was some company and support. And it didn't matter what had happened to leave him in that state that night, the real problem was he had gone through it alone. 

"Thank you for everything, Celestino" Viktor waved at him, wholeheartedly, as he opened the door to the driver's seat "I should leave now"

"Good luck... I hope I don't see you around in a while" 

He outlined a weak smile, the frozen image of a paused laughter to that sad, ironic joke. A fresh, sudden splash of feeling, after a long while of cancelling emotions. Somehow, remembering how to smile made it even worse afterwards. He hoped, too, for the next time they saw each other to be in other circumstances. 

As he got into the car he noticed Yuuri had been crying his whole absence, quite dramatically, judging by the painful red of his eyes and the way he desperately turned his head as soon as he opened the door. Why was he suddenly so needy, when he seemed to be so distant while sober? Were this his true colours? Cause it looked like a pretty dark palette, and Viktor didn't like the look of it. Not a single bit. 

"You came back!" he gasped, marvelled "You are he-here!" 

"Of course I am, I would never leave you" He said, lost in thought, as he buckled up his own belt and started the engine "Don't worry, buddy, I'm taking you home"

"NO!!" The kid screamed, and Viktor almost stops the car out of shock "Not ho-home! Not parents! They will...they will k-know that-" 

"You don't want me to take you home??" Viktor blinked, and Yuuri nodded "Where do you want to go then?? I can't just leave you out there, Yuuri!"

"My parents w-would kill meh!" When was he going to stop crying?? Would he ever run out of tears?? Of energy??? "P-please no! I can't g-go home! Please don- please don’t take me home!" 

"Calm down, calm down! I won't" He turned left and away from the Katsuki residence, trying to think for another plan, but finding it impossible with the constant crying right next to his ear "How are you feeling, though?"

"I feel so bad" He gripped his head in a failed attempt to stop the dizziness, but it didn't seem to work. Only Viktor's arm was stable enough. He wanted Viktor's arm. Viktor's arm was pretty "E-evryhing is spinning and...it hurts" 

He grabbed Viktor's arm.

"What hurts?" The man somehow managed not to crash the car as soon as his arm was suddenly ripped off from the wheel and pressed into Yuuri's chest "Be careful, boy! I don't want to crash the car!" 

"Everything" he wept, sniffing, trying to keep the snot away from his face "My head, my stomach, my chest..." 

"Your chest?" 

"It hurts so much!" he went on, crying onto the limb and holding it like a kid holds a teddy bear. Seeking protection, seeking refugee from the monsters under the bed. Or rather, the monsters inside his head "It hurts so so so so much! It burns!" Viktor knew he wasn't talking about the effects of alcohol. He perfectly knew what he meant "It hu-hurts when I talk"

"Then stop talking, you'll feel much better" He attempted, as an easy escape. 

"But it a-also hurts when I swallow" 

"Try not so swallow too hard then, I guess" 

"It also hurts when I breathe" Viktor stiffened, losing track of his answers, and clenched his hands around the wheel with pained fury "I want to stop breathing"

There was a second of silence, in which Viktor had to gulp down a sip of his own tears, with his throat swollen and sore by pressure, to keep himself from crying out of pity as well. 

"Watch your mouth, Yuuri" His lips shivered "You don't know what you are saying" 

"Yes I do" He answered, way more certain than Viktor's heart could tolerate "I don't want to live anymore" 

Viktor furiously stepped onto the brake, stopping the car abruptly, almost driving past a red light, and turned his head to look at the boy.

"Yuuri, do you realize how serious this is?" He tried to sound firm, but his voice cracked as soon as he saw the other started wiping again "Yuuri, please don't say something like that ever again" 

"I don't want to live without him!" He cried, before the car accelerated all of a sudden and he started racking again.

"Into the bucket!" Viktor exclaimed, almost crashing onto a streetlight as he held the bucket up for him and heard him puke and cough into it for the hundredth time that night. He debated whether he should stop the car and rub his back or something, but he decided it was better not to delay their arrival "Breathe, Yuuri. Stop crying, you'll choke" 

"I don't want to live wi-without him! I don't care! I don't give a shit anymore!"

"What are you talking about?? Who??" 

"I ca-I can't, I...I miss Vicchan!" Yuuri vomited again, but this time the other didn't hear him. He was in trance, eyes opened wide, realization hitting him like a truck as he sharply manoeuvred the wheel not to crash into a real wagon. Everything made sense now "I miss him so mu-much!"

Viktor still kept his eyes on the rode, mentally using the lame excuse of safety, when in reality he just didn't feel emotionally ready to look at him in the eye. Not when he was crying so spiteful, not when he was hugging a bucket of his own vomit like his life depended on it, not after what he had just said. He was a weak, weak man. And he knew the worst he could do right then, was allowing that weakness of him to make him cry too. 

“Oh, Yuuri” He gave a painful exhale, and now he kind of understood that thing about the chest pains. There was no need to fall into hypocrisies, to be honest, he didn’t know what it would be of him if something ever happened to Makkachin. Death always brought the worst kind of tears, and also the worst kind of pep talks. There was nothing one could really say to soothe the loss of a loved one. When the problem to deal with was so permanent, back rubs and soothing words were just a confirmation, not a consolation, and always turned into a repetitive, meaningless monologue on how to deal with the sadness. There’s no way with dealing with that sadness. And Viktor could tell, he could tell more than anyone else “Yuuri, dear, you are so young, so talented, you have so much to live for! Don’t go around saying otherwise” 

“No I don’t!” He shouted, plucking the console out from the other man’s tongue, and making him swallow it down in a gulp of useless sympathy “I have nothing! I’m p-pathetic and no one likes me! My parents are all day busy with that damn hotel, my sister thinks I’m a lazy-ass, no one ever wanted to be friends with m-me! Tell me, Viktor, what’s wrong with me??” Raising his voice exhausted him, so the next words were nothing but a tired, whispery sob “When will somebody love me?” 

Viktor’s heart had some kind of contraction, a twirl, bending within itself like a dog trying to catch its own tail.

“Yuuri” He said, taking the chance to let go the wheel with one hand now that they were in a much calmer neighbourhood, and using it to hold Yuuri’s instead “So many people love you”

He meant every single word.

The boy blinked, some remaining tears jumping from his lashes, and sunk further into his seat.

“No” He whined, like a tired, bratty child.

“Yes they do” 

“Don’t” He insisted, yawning “Who would?” 

“Don’t you see it, Yuuri? Everyone loves you, everyone around you loves you so much! Phichit loves you, Minako loves you, even Celestino! And I’m sure your family loves you too. Boy, please listen to me” 

There was a way too long, reflective silence.

“And how would you now?” He asked after a while, drowsy by the soothing movement of the car, and his body finally charging the excessive effort of being sick and the prominent lack of sleep.

Viktor bit the inside of his cheek, asking that same question to himself, and finding there was no logical answer. He didn’t know how he knew, he just did. It was obvious, so obvious, a natural reaction for anyone’s organism. Like sneezing or aging, loving Yuuri was something inevitable, innate, the corresponding response to the stimulus. His clumsiness, his gentleness, his dancing, the way he always cheered for everyone, his smile, his everything…it was the best spell he had ever been cursed with. Who wouldn’t love him? Who COULD not love him, even if they tried? How do you escape such a powerful force? He had no clue. There was no further explanation than the obvious virus he knew everyone was infected with. Everyone, except the breeder. 

“I know because I love you, too” 

Yet he received no answer rather than the sound of deep, even breathing. 

Yuuri had fallen asleep, soundly, for once and for all.

 

 

The first thing he noticed as he woke up in the morning, while he was still on that vigil limbo that wouldn’t let him fully acknowledge reality just yet, was the killing headache. There were times when headaches felt like having a stake nailed right through his head. That day though, it felt like they were STILL hammering it in. His upset stomach and that stinging throb at the back of his eyes, were all the evidence he needed to tell that maybe, waking up right then, would be a terrible idea. So he decided to ignore all of those unholy details, like the light itching at his lids or the way the mattress didn’t seem to properly comfort his spine, and tried to fall back through the side of sleep. 

However, certain someone didn’t seem to have the same plans. 

Out of the blue there was this heavy, sudden weight jumping onto his belly, almost squeezing his organs out of him, but thankfully all that came out through his mouth was surprised gasp. The lapping started before he could even offer an aware answer and, in no second, his face was covered in sticky saliva. 

“Vicchan…” He mumbled, giggling as he tried to push the hairy beast away “Vicchan, stop! It tickles!”

Giving a deep exhale, trying to expulse sleep out of his system for once and for all, he raked his fingers through his dog’s soft fur and let out a lazy sigh. Shifting a bit, not really paying attention to the horrid pain in his neck, he opened his eyes to smile at his friend. Yet, as soon as he saw him, it wasn’t a smile what he outlined. 

His Vicchan wasn’t that big.

Much to his grief or his sanity, he doesn’t really know, realization came to him in instalments, in droplets, handed in pieces. First came the understanding that that was, under no standard, his dog. Secondly, came the merging and reasoning of all his body pains, not being separate ailments anymore to become one common entity: a hangover. Third, came the memories of cries and alcohol and quite a peculiar car ride. And, last but not least, he fall into account that that was not his house. 

Looking around, sitting up on what seemed to be a white leather sofa, he found himself in a small but still roomy and luminous apartment. The furniture was pale and modern, yet scarce, youthful and classy looking. And kind of luxurious, too. There was quite a nice plasma TV hanging on top of a nice, marble chimney that had three frames lying on top. One was a picture of a white haired lady with a baby in arms, other was the image of the same dog that was now sniffing him from head to toes, and the last one seemed to be a diploma, which read: VIKTOR NIKIFOROV - DEGREE IN SOCIAL COMMUNICATIONS. 

And that's when it finally hit him: He was in Viktor's apartment. 

He recalled his drinking, he recalled the guys who tried to get into his pants when he couldn't even pronounce his own name, he recalled Celestino and Viktor coming to rescue...and he recalled Vicchan's death. 

Suddenly, that itching rind at the inside of his chest made a lot more sense.

Someone had covered him with a blanket at some point in the night, and the yellow bucket he had completely ruined with vomit was now clean and ready to be used again.  
But no, the sensation twirling at the pitch of his stomach was no retch this time.

The guilt, the anger, the embarrassment. The loss. The grief of wanting to cry an absence with the absent, of wishing his dog was there to comfort him about not being there. A painful irony, clear enough. He needed his soft, squishy and hairy good-morning hug. And as he looked around, in the search of some way too specific kinds of heat and love he knew he wouldn't found, all he saw was this other dog. Viktor's, he presumed, sniffing and licking his hands as a friendly introduction. 

He wasn't really thinking when he pulled him into his arms. 

It wasn't the same. He was much bigger, so it was hard to completely wrap him in an embrace. He didn't move his leg in that funny way when he scratched his upper belly, right under the left rib. He didn't whine loud enough for Yuuri not to hear his own wretched, thundering heart. He wasn't Vicchan. But his fur was as soft as his and his intentions as pure, and it was the closest he could, and would ever, be able to get. 

So he hugged him tight, squeezing, pressing him against his chest as he sobbed into the mop of brownish hair. He cried, and cried, and cried. Not even trying to convince himself that was Vicchan, because it was clearly not. Hugging him felt like trying to fit a piece into the wrong puzzle. But right then all he needed was to hold onto something as not to fall apart, and that barking ball of fluff seemed familiar enough for both his arms and his desperate heart to be fooled.

When Viktor came into the room, he wasn’t expecting to find Yuuri curled into a ball, nose runny and shaking shoulders, as he cried onto his poodle and hold him painfully close. He was a mess, with his gelled hair now sticking everywhere, his face pale and his lips dry, trembling, clinging onto the animal with his mere life. Makkachin didn’t seem to mind. Yet, Viktor couldn’t really say the same thing. 

Carefully, not wanting to startle him, he sat next to him on the sofa and waited in silence. Yuuri had noticed him as soon as he entered the room, but he didn’t have enough resolve in his soul to look at him right then. All he could do was let his eyes leak unwillingly, and hug the hell out of that animal like it would soften the impact of facts. Plus, he didn’t have the courage to face the man right then. Not after he woke him up so early during a weekday, not when he had cried and ranted about his problems for hours, and not when he had forced him to let him stay over the night. Gosh, he was probably so mad at him right then! Who wouldn’t be? He was such an idiot, he wouldn’t be surprised if he wasn’t counseled ever again. He didn’t deserve it, and Viktor either. 

He wanted to stand up, he wanted to dry his tears and say apologize for being such a weak ass, but he couldn’t physically move. He was exhausted, and his mind didn’t feel strong enough right then to make him move against the odds. So he just stay there, like a petty pile of goo, curled into a ball and facing away from him, expecting to be told off at any second. 

However, that didn’t happen. Next thing he knows, there’s a warm, gentle weight on his back. Feathery, silent and unmoving. No scolds, no anger, nothing. Just the soft caress of a hand at the small of his back; and a comforting silence, with no deadline whatsoever for him to stop crying. 

“Yuuri, it’s ok to cry” He said, as if apart from perfect and lovely he was also a mind-reader “But please don’t shut out from me. What happened last night could have been avoided if you opened up. So please, Yuuri…” He begged, looking for his eyes behind the layer of dog fur “Talk to me” 

“I’m sorry” He mumbled against Makkachin, still hiding his ashamed face behind him “I didn’t want to bother you with my stupid stuff”

“Well, looked how it turned out” 

“I’m sorry”

“Don’t be” Viktor outlined a piece of a smile, as he saw the other’s face beginning to pop from behind his dog “But you have to promise me you’ll talk to me from now on, ok? I want to help you” 

Yuuri shut down, looking away again, and Makkachin turned to lap at his face as if he knew he needed a snap back to reality. He felt some bubbling sensation in his stomach rising up his throat, maybe heartburn, or maybe some boiling, erupting words he had been trying to digest for so long. Giving some final strokes to the dog’s fur, he sat up against the armrest and breathed, thinking that maybe, just maybe, gravity would pay its effects and the words would make their way back down, sink into the pitch of his gut and disappear for a while again. But it didn’t. The words, shaken and vigorous, rushed all the way up to his mouth like an active volcano. And his lips weren’t strong enough to seal them, nor his will enough to stop them, as they bursted out.

“When I was in elementary school, my parents would get phone calls from school everyday saying I spent every recess alone” He recalled, hugging his own knees against his chest “I also had no friends in the neighbourhood. There was this girl, Yuuko, the one from the Ice Castle, who is a friend of the family and always tried to talk to me. But I kept pushing her away. My mom consulted a friend of hers, who’s a psychologist, and she said that maybe a pet would keep me accompanied. So we adopted Vicchan”

Viktor didn’t speak, afraid he would break the spell and keep him from talking. He just kept listening, silent, letting him take his time to finish the story. There was no rush. He didn’t care if he was late to work that day, after all, he had taken work home. 

“One day someone wrote a really good review of our hotel in the local newspaper, and after that day my parents were as busy as ever. My sister started working with them, since they needed all the help they could get. And from that day on, it was only Vicchan and I” He sighed, looking down to Makkachin who was now resting on his owner’s feet “At first I didn’t mind, I kept telling myself it wasn’t that bad, that being separate from my family would make me independent and that it was for the better. Plus, I was about to start middle school, and I promised myself I would make some friends there. But things weren’t that simple. And I realized when I spent my twelfth birthday alone” 

“Alone?” 

“Alone” He sulked “My parents used to prepare a cake for me and buy me some little present, but that year they simply forgot. They just greeted me in the morning and gave me a happy-birthday-hug before they were out to work, and told me I was allowed to invite as many friends as I wanted to celebrate. I guess they didn’t know I still had no friends. It’s my fault, kind of, for never telling them. From that day on every year is the same, I celebrate by buying myself some candy, and spend the whole day with Vicchan…well, until now. My birthday is next weekend, and this time not even Vicchan will be there” 

Viktor couldn’t stop his hand from moving that dark lock of hair that covered Yuuri’s eye. He pulled it back, back into the dry-gelled nest that was his head right then, and smiled as he saw a pair of brown eyes look up as if he could see it.

“I kind of understand what you feel, my birthday is con Christmas day” He giggled, his hand never abandoning the softness of the other’s hair “I know it’s not the same, but I know what it’s like to feel there’s always something much more important than your special day” A very stupid idea had the guts to pop inside his brain, and he tried to exterminate it as if he were playing a Whack a Thought game with himself. He was really bad at that game “Tell me, boy, when’s your birthday?” 

“November the 29th” 

_November the 29th_

_November the frickin 29th_

Viktor flinched, pretending he didn’t hear the date, and telling himself to move on with the conversation and deal with his own angst later. After all, they were talking about Yuuri now, and Yuuri needed all the possible attention. He had no time for his own dramas, and he had no time to think about November the 29th. 

“Well, you see, there’s this…figure skating exhibition this weekend, at-”

“At the National Figure Skating Club! I know! Some of my favourite skaters are going!” He interrupted, excitedly, until he remembered the downside “But it’s like four hours away from here…” 

“I can take you” 

Yuuri’s eyebrows jumped all the way to his hairline. For a second getting way more rousing than his spirit usually allowed.

“What??” 

“I can take you!” Viktor repeated himself “It’s a Saturday, right? I was actually planning to go alone on Sunday, but I can take you for your birthday if you want!” 

“Oh, no!” The kid blushed, waving his hands, using all of his power of will to deny the offer “I would never bother you like that! You don’t have to-”

“Yuuri, you are never a bother” He tired to convince him, stroking his shoulder “I seriously have no problem in taking you! What’s more, I actually prefer not to go alone” 

“For real??” 

Yuuri grinned, a genuine, content grin after so many hours of exclusively grief. His cheeks were still stained with dry tears, his eyes were still red and sleepless, and he still looked like he had a lot to get off his chest. But for a mere second, he looked actually hopeful, bright, with something to look forward to. And Viktor wasn’t going to let damn November the 29th ruin that gorgeous achievement.

“For real” 

 

 

“Are you sure you can’t drop me by the groceries store? I think I might have to buy some milk, you know? Maybe my sister drank all of it and I-”

“Yuuri…” Viktor’s tone was as serious as ever, as he stopped his car right in front of the Katsuki’s house. There was no turning back now, the boy needed to face the consequences of last night’s actions, and there was no point on postponing it “Your family must be worried, you need to talk to them now” 

“Yeah, I know, but-”

“No buts” He insisted, stretching to open the passenger’s seat door without even unbuckling his belt, and pointing at the awaiting house “I need to go to work now, I’m an hour late already and Minako will kill me. Remember to call sick, ok?” 

Yuuri nodded, gulping, looking at his own house with the corner of the eye and getting the same shivers he got whenever he walked into school. 

“Ok”

“Don’t worry, Yuuri, everything would be ok. Isn’t your family working at the hotel right now? You have all day to relax and think what you’ll tell them about last night” He said, watching the other get out of the car and give a step forwards, slowly, as if he were walking to a haunted house “And don’t forget you can call me if you need anything, alright? I’ll keep my phone close just in case” 

“Alright” Yuuri let out the word together with a breath, trying to calm down, telling himself his parents were surely not home and he had nothing to worry about till later. Later sounded way too close. “Thank you, Viktor. And sorry for everything…again” 

“It’s nothing” He smiled, hiding a yawn powered by just three hours of sleep, and starting the engine again “Good luck, boy. See you tomorrow” 

And just like that he left, leaving the kid to stand alone in his own porch, trying to figure out how to deal with his own heartbeat. 

_“Calm down, you idiot”_ He told himself, looking for the key in his pocket, but letting out a sigh of relief as soon as he remembered he didn’t have it with him. He usually left and came back through his bedroom window, and taking a quick peek, he noticed somebody had closed it from the inside. Well, it seemed he would have to go lie on a bench again until it was the time for his parents to get home _“Thanks god”_

However, as he was walking the short porch’s stairs back down, he heard the sound of the door abruptly opening, and he was suddenly sweating cold. 

“Yuuri!?” A desperate, breathy female voice got his heart racing like a racing car, and he couldn’t help the shivers he got as he turned around. 

“Mari??” 

“Yuuri, oh my god!” His sister exclaimed covering her mouth as she stared at him from head to toes “There you are!” 

He stared at her, speechless, having been taken off ward and without an alibi to save his fragile dignity. 

“I…why are you…weren’t you supposed to be at…?” 

“I stayed because we were waiting for you to get home! Do you have an idea of how worried we were when we woke up and you weren’t there?? You disappeared in the middle of the night!” They…cared? They really noticed his absence right away?? “Mom and dad are worried sick! Where were you?? What happened to you?? Are you ok??” 

He realized just how confused she might be, since he probably looked like a mess and he was still wearing his clubbing shirt. He must have stunk like alcohol, too, which was probably the reason she looked so horrified. What should he say in his defence? How was he supposed to give a proper, apt answer when he didn’t even have time to think of an excuse?? He had no excuse, and he had no will to keep lying. 

So, sweeping the hundred panicking, screaming voiced inside his head, shutting his brain for once and for all, he run into his big sis’s arms, and hid his face on her shoulder like he did when he was a little boy. 

Mari blinked, unbelieving, but hugged him back right away. She made a movement to close the door behind them, without pulling apart, and rubbed a hand up and down his back as the only clueless way she found to comfort him. 

“I’m so sorry” He sobbed, hugging her tighter, trying to get the same feeling of protection he got when she used to be physically bigger and she wrapped herself around him. But just like it happened with Viktor a while ago, the words escaped his restrains, and before he could collect himself and take it easy, he blurted out everything like a verbal alphabet soup “Mari, I th-think I have a drinking problem, I escape home almost every night to go to this bar and I get really d-drunk, and I hate it but I can’t stop, and I don’t know what to do and everything is getting out of control and I’m scared! I’m so scared! I was so afraid to tell you or mom or dad because I thought you would be so mad at me and wo-wouldn’t want to talk to me ever again and I also lied about having friends and last night was so horrible and I had nowhere to go to! My head hurts, my eyes are dry as hell, I feel so sick and tired and I want to hide under a rock and die!” He had to take a moment to breathe, to get back the air truth and the non-stop ranting had stolen, as he mumbled against his sister’s shoulder “I’m also gay” 

Mari stood still, her hands freezing in place and stopping their caressing. It wasn’t rejection but mere astonishment, confusion and misbelieve. She couldn’t process so much information all at once, give her a break. So just like a computer she crashed, immobile, trying to refresh her brain until any answer popped up. 

“Whoa” was all the shock allowed her to say. 

“I’m sorry” Yuuri whined, breaking away from her solid grip and looking at the ground ashamedly.

“Don’t be, I just…I just can’t…whoa” Mari grabbed her own head, getting kind of light-headed too, as she tried to get the facts to sink in without flooding her overloaded brain.

“Are you mad at me?” 

She looked up, meeting her brother’s broken gaze, seeing those scared, sorry eyes watery and lost, his shoulders shaking, his lips quivering and she just couldn’t take it anymore. Pulling him into her arms again, this time ready and full of fraternal heat, she hugged him close and caressed his back and hair, moving side to side in a lulling, gentle rhythm to help him calm down. He may have grown taller than him since the last time they hugged, but she was still his big sister, and she was still willing to protect him no matter what, and against any threat. 

“Of course not, Yuuri” She whispered, closing her eyes, getting a bit of comfort from the hug, too “I’m only mad at myself, for not noticing sooner. You should have told us, you know?” Yuuri nodded, still hiding his face on her chest, way too shy to look at her just yet. Relaxing, wanting to fall asleep in her arms and don’t wake up forever “Do you want to have some tea and chat for a while? I’m pretty sure you need to talk…and an aspirin” 

The boy let out a wet chuckle, nodding again in agreement, and drying his tears and snot with the back of his hand.

“That sounds good” He said, smiling, wholeheartedly content, as he saw his sister was grinning contently too. 

“Come on then” She signalled the kitchen, winking playfully “And don’t worry…we’ll find an excuse for mom and dad until you are ready to tell them” 

 

 

Yuuri went back to school the next day feeling fresh and calm. Of course, the inevitable sorrow was still there, but he had somehow managed to push it to the back of his mind. Having that talk with his sister, an aspirin, a shower, and a ten hours nap seemed to have made miracles. Since the very next day he was already walking down the school halls with good vibes. 

He had quite a nice day ahead, he knew, and that was enough to let him keep a nice mood. He had some of his favorite subjects on Fridays, and also Phichit had introduced him to some other friends his during lunch, Guang-Hong and Leo, who were the litwral definition of a sidekick, but were actually pretty cool for first years. Now he was going to talk to Viktor at his office for a while, about what had happened at the bar and stuff, and he was planning to skate a bit after he finished his shift at the Ice Castle. His family seemed to be pampering him because of what happened to Vicchan. And although it did get him down to think about that detail, it felt really nice to be the centre of attention at home for a while. His mother even made Katsudon for him, and Mari had said they could rent a movie and make some popcorn once he came back home. 

It wasn't easy to accept his friend's loss, but it was easier to drift his mind away from it with so much other stuff to think about.

"Hey, what happened to you yesterday? Why were you absent?" Phichit asked, as they both walked down the hallway kind of hurriedly. Yuuri didn't have any extra classes that day, so he was just heading to Viktor's. But the other was part of the audiovisual club, and he couldn't be late.

"Oh, long story" he scratched the back of his neck, not really in the mood for lying and not really sure if he had an excuse in mind "I'll tell you some other day" 

"Hmmm, sounds suspicious!" Phichit teased, elbowing his side "Dude, what were you up to??"

"Me?? Nothing!" 

"You can't lie to me, Yuuri Katsuki" He said, smirking knowingly as he picked some stuff from his locker and closed its door "I know you, Yuuri...I can see your true colors!" 

_"And I'll see your true colors_  
_Shining through_  
_I see your true colors_  
_And that's why I love you"_

Yuuri started singing, and Phichit didn't really last much longer without joining.

_"So don't be afraid to let them show!_  
_Your true colors_  
_True colors are beautiful_  
_Like a rainbow!!!"_

By the moment they finished the lyrics, they were already at the door of the audiovisual club and the guy was already running late. 

"Don't think you'll get away with this so easily, Katsuki!" he pointed at him, not really good at keeping a straight face, as he entered his class "You can't keep distracting me with Cyndi Lauper songs forever!" 

"Goodbye, Phichit" Yuuri waved and smiled, mockingly, acting like he didn't hear a thing "See you later!" 

The door was closed, and his friend disappeared behind it pointing at his own eyes and mouthing "I'm watching you".

Yuuri giggled, turning around and on his way to Viktor's office. Phichit was a good person, he could tell, and he felt surprisingly comfortable around him. Maybe he deserved to know the truth...or at least part of it. He probably thought he was a virgin and a loser, and that he never tasted a drop of unholy alcohol in his mere life...oh boy, if he found out about the clubbing...

But he was certain he wouldn't mind. He seemed to be that kind of person who really didn't give a fuck about your preferences, your habits or anything. He didn't judge. And as long as you were a good person, he was always going to welcome you with a smile...and maybe lots of selfies.

Maybe...just maybe...he could tell him about The Madmen Cage...sometime! Not right then! He didn't want him to think he was a freak or anything....and what if he found out it was a gay bar?? Abort mission! Abort mission! 

Yuuri shook his head, trying to push the thought of a disappointed Phichit aside. It would be the end of him, he was already really fond of that dork. Maybe he could at least tell him about Vicchan, even though he really didn't want to talk about it. And wouldn't he get annoyed if he told him his problems? Viktor said he wouldn't, that people loved him and wouldn't mind helping him out if he needed anything but...he was the counselor! It was obvious he would say something like that! What should he do??

And, just when he was about to have one of his daily over-thinking strokes, there was a sudden pair of hands abruptly grabbing him by the shirt and pressing his back against the lockers violently. 

"Yurio??" what was it with people assaulting him in the hallways like that?? "What are you doing??" 

"MY NAME’S NOT YURIO YOU FUCKIN FUCK!" the blond punk screamed, or rather spit, as he roared an anger typhoon into his face "THIS WAS YOUR FUCKING FAULT, RIGHT?? THIS IS YOUR UGLY ASS'S FAULT'

Probably, a lot of things were his fault, usually.

"What are you talking about??" He fixed his glasses back in place, genuinely lost, until he saw Yuri backing off to take a piece of paper out of his school back.

"I'M TALKING ABOUT THIS SHIT" He pressed it onto his face, and he had to take it away from him and put it at a reasonable distance to actually be able to read it. It was a letter of acceptance to the Arts Club. Oh. "I know you hang out with that old fucking rag all day! You two did this, didn't you?? You told him about my sketchbook?? I'm gonna fuckin murder you!"

Yeah, please do.

Surprisingly, he wasn't nearly to be scared. Not a single bit. Whenever he used to look at Yuri, he saw this aggressive, powerful entity he couldn't classify as anything but a threat. He tried to avoid him in the hallways, anxious, since every word from his mouth felt sharper than the average insult, it hurt more. He used to feel like the enemy was always smarter, always faster and stronger, always in the place to step into scum like him...

Right then, however, he felt like he was dealing with an infant's tantrum.

"Uh, yeah, sorry. I didn't know your art was that confidential" he coughed, looking away, trying not to sound sarcastic. He wasn't scared, but he wasn't willing to try his luck "It wasn't me who signed you up, though"

"I DON'T GIVE A SHIT" He insisted, pulling from Yuuri's shirt and pushing him harder against the lockers "YOU BETTER TAKE ME OUT OF THAT FUCKIN CLASS OR..." 

Had he ran out of threats, already? He liked the murder one though... It sounded so legit. 

Yuuri was beginning to lose his patience. Let's say no one liked being thrown against hard surfaces. Not when it was for violent purposes. Maybe he wasn't really scared, but he did feel intimidated. Should he escape his grip and avoid more conflict, like he always did? No, not that day. Although all he wanted to do was one of his usual runaways, right then he was in the mood for something different.

"I can't take you out of that class, Yurio, the inscriptions are already closed. However..." The grip on his shirt tightened, and so did the gritting of Yuri's jaw "...I can go with you through your first class, if you want"

The blood finally ran out from those overworked knuckles and Yuuri was free from their hold in no second. He was used to having to look up at his bullies, and it was nice to be able to bend his head downwards for a change. Especially when the bullied looked so pettily puzzled, like a little kid who just found out Santa’s not real. 

"What??" He asked, looking disgusted by his own confusion.

"I know it's really awkward to go to new places alone, especially when everybody knows each other and you are just like...the newbie, I guess. So I thought that maybe you would like to..." 

"I don't give a fuck about others!" Yuri barked, (or was it a mewl?) as he pushed him against the lockers once again "You think I can't take care of myself? You think I need you?? Who the fuck do you think you are???" 

Who the fuck did HE think he was, treating people like that? Yuuri was really tempted to answer back, but at the same time he wasn't. Fighting fire with fire was never a good idea. When the aggressor was consumed by their own rage, the best way to deal with the flames was always a cold bucket of indifference. 

"Oh? I see...then I should leave" Yuuri shrugged, pouting slightly, and turning to leave with his hands in his pockets "I guess you are going to be fine all by yourself...dealing with the introductions, the millions of questions..." 

"Questions?" 

"Of course" Yuuri bit a smile "I remember when I joined my first club, they wouldn't stop asking questions! My name, my age, about my hobbies, my life..." 

Yuri gulped.

"Why should I care?? I don't mind talking to people..." He snorted, feinting to leave the scene, but stopping middle-way to eye at Yuuri timidly "...Are there many people though?" 

Yuuri smirked.

"Oh...I don't know....maybe fifteen, maybe twenty..." He faked some deep thought, as he rubbed his chin with his fingers like Viktor always did when he tried to look assertive "Why do you care though? You said you could take care of yourself, so I should be leaving to..." 

"Wait!" the kid blurted out, clearing his throat and aiming to strike a confident pose again "Maybe you should come with me, since you are such a loser and I'll look so much cooler next to you"

Loser? Meh, he'd been called worse...

Grinning knowingly. he tuned towards him and finally felt confident enough to look at his rival in the eye. He didn't look as scary anymore, but rather scared instead. It wasn't that hard to deduce he wasn't used to deal with other people, but he wasn't expecting him to be so shy. And was that blush on his face? Oh gosh, if he could only take a picture...

"So that's the only reason I should go with you?" Yuuri commented, as they walked the now emptying hallway towards the art class "to make you look cooler?"

"And YOU do the talking!" Yuri ordered, crossing his arms and looking away "This is all your fuckin fault after all!" 

Well, he couldn't really argue with that.

Once they reached the door, it was the punk who knocked. There he was, tensely balancing on his feet, looking at the handle as if he were getting ready to have an infarct as soon as it moved. Yuuri felt the need to ask him: “Nervous?” But he knew that if he did, he would probably get punched in the face. 

The door opened and, surprisingly, Yuri didn’t faint. A tall, pretty girl with bright blue eyes and hair dyed red, welcomed them with a cheeky smile and her face stained with paint. 

“You must be Yuri!” She greeted, looking at the kid. But then turned her attention to the unexpected third year, who was also waiting by the door “And you are..?” 

“Yuuri” He answered, not really good at avoiding confusions, to be honest.

“Oh, so YOU are Yuri?” She arched a brow, turning to Yuri again “Then who are YOU?” 

“I’m Yuri!” 

“What the-”

“The two of us are Yuri!” Katsuki was fast to respond. But the redhead didn’t look less confused. 

“Ok I’m not really going to question this shit” She shrugged, fully opening the door for them “You can both come in” 

Yuri glared at Yuuri, angrily, as if blaming him for ruining the first interaction. What was he expecting?? He was probably more of a social inept than him! Why did he have to take the entire fault? He feared he was going to have to deal with that angry stare through the whole class, but as soon as they stepped inside, the kid’s eyes seemed to be way too busy to keep offending him. 

Hanging from every wall, there were paintings and drawings of all the possible styles: expressionist, surrealist, impressionist, pop art… all made by the students, displayed for everyone to admire. Everyone was engaging in a different activity, way too concentrated in their own pieces to mind others and Yuri felt blessed. Art supplies were spread EVERYWHERE, seemingly sprouting from an open cupboard that the students had assaulted to look for what they needed. They had paint, crayons, oils…even spray cans! That place looked like a heaven’s branch on earth! 

“My name is Mila” The redhead interrupted his internal fangirling, as she cleaned her hands with her shirt. They noticed it wasn’t only her face that was stained with paint, but also all of her clothes “I’m a second year, what about you?” 

Yuri glanced at Yuuri, again, as if telling him to do his job. His social anxiety did not approve.

“Uhm… I’m a third year. But eh… I’m not the one who signed in for this class” He pointed at his own chest, then the other Yuri’s “He’s who did, Yuri Plisetsky, he’s a first year” 

Mila made a face, still not convinced or just not able to understand what the well was up with those kids, until she reached a deadly conclusion:

“Are you two siblings or something?”

Both Yuris almost choke on their self-esteem. 

“ME?? SIBLINGS WITH THE PIGLET???” The punk wanted to pull out every single red hair from her head “NO WAY!!” 

“N-no! We just happen to share a first name!” Yuuri clarified, yet eyed the other quite snubbed. How he dare?? After all he was doing for him! He saw no need to keep putting restrains to his newfound sassy side, so his lips outlined a sly, evil smirk “We call him Yurio, though. To avoid confusions” 

“WHAT?? NO THEY-”

“Oh! Such a nice nickname!” Mila clapped, content “Welcome then, Yurio!” 

“THAT’S NOT MY FUCKIN-”

“Hey, don’t be rude, Yurio” Yuuri should have tried all this teasing thingy way before, he was about to crack up “Come on, lets keep looking around!” 

Much to his surprise, Yuri attempted no murder. He just turned unbelievably red, purely blown by anger, and threw him a death glance he was sure had just discounted like five years of his life. But he didn’t care. The tickles in his stomach were worth it. 

“As you may see, everyone is working on their own project. At the end of the month, the teacher evaluates them and selects the ones he thinks are worth for competitions or expositions” Mila walked them around the spacious room, signalling a wide piece of cloth with quite a blurry, almost unrecognizable picture of a landscape on it. It was painted on quite an unconventional way. That was the stroke of no brush…the paint was dripping and it unshaped the figure, but the colors were beautifully chosen, and it looked gorgeous either way “This is what I’m currently working on” 

“How did you paint that??” Yuuri asked, trying to find a sense to the dripping paint. He had never really been good with art, yet, his companion looked fascinated.

“With water guns!” She exclaimed, taking a toy gun from inside a drawer, all covered in paint and filled to the brim “I just shoot the paint onto the thing” 

“So cool…” Yurio mouthed. 

“Don’t you have any kind of supervision? Where’s the teacher?” Of course he had to ask, as he fixed his glasses like the nerd he was “I mean, this is really awesome and all but do they really let you…?” 

“There he is!” Mila pointed at a corner, and both guys turned to look at a young, ridiculously concentrated man, who seemed to be working on his own sculpting project “Mr. Popovich! We have a new kid!” 

However, the man didn’t seem to listen, since his face didn’t abandon that creepy expression of focus, effort, and…distress? He seemed to be working exclusively with ice cream sticks, as he built the shape of a woman and cried onto his own creation.

“ANYA!!” He screamed, still in his own sorrow bubble “WHY DID YOU LEAVE ME, OH ANYA!!”

For both Yuris, those were some unexpected events. For Mila, on the other hand, it was an everyday thing. 

“Did I mention he got dumped by his girlfriend?” She felt the need to add, and the guys shook their heads simultaneously “Anyways…lets keep going!” 

They were shown around the whole room, saw every single piece, and were awkwardly introduced to every artist. Yuuri felt kind of uncomfortable, since he had talked more in one hour than he usually did in a whole week, but he really didn’t mind. After all, being uncomfortable and awkward was kind of like his permanent form as a being. And Yuri looked dazed, honestly, it was the closest to happy he thought he would ever see him. He kept looking around, still too withdrawn to ask questions, admiring every centimetre of space surrounding him…it was almost cute. If it wasn’t because he was wearing a presumed illegal amount of animal print clothing, he would have thought it wasn’t the same person that kept harassing him in the hallways until that very same afternoon. 

By the end of the class, the teacher stopped crying for a while and approached them to introduce himself. He told Yuri there was no way to fail the class, unless he was absent to a determinate amount of classes, or that he didn’t hand in any project by the end of each month. That seemed to be a day of many revelations, since the boy didn’t protest about it. Instead, he nodded his head. Like, GENTLY nodded his head, almost as if he were saying thank you! Yuuri couldn’t believe his eyes. 

It was amazing, how people had more layers than onions did. Fears, anger, sorrow…any emotion could make you grow a new skin. Being it because of shame, because the need to fit it, or for whatever reason, no one’s safe from forming coats. Whoever said “nothing’s what it seems” wasn’t joking around. Layers, masks, levels, doesn’t matter how you choose to call them, existed. And Yuuri was beginning to see just how fun it was to peel them off. Be it Phichit’s mean façade he used in his blog, or Viktor’s Mr.Perfect’s shiny flawless cover to hide just how much of a dork he could be…or even Yurio’s spiky surface.There was always something else underneath, something the neighbour’s eyes couldn’t see, and there was always more and more to scratch and tear to reach a probably inexistent core. 

“Thank you…ugly pig” Yuri muttered as soon as they were out from the class. Of course, he was still working on compliments.

“Bye, Yurio” He waved, smiling, since somehow that hadn’t sound like an insult to him anymore “See you around” 

As he turned to leave, wanting to check if Viktor was still in his office (although he really doubted it), he couldn’t keep his head from sinking into deep thought. He wondered, looking around the poetically empty hallways, how his own layers actually looked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaa everything kind of turned out ok, right? Except from Vicchan who's like...still dead...sorry about that.  
> Get ready for the next one tho because it's like FLUFF OVERLOAD %120
> 
> Don't forget to leave your comments :D (that's the face of a murderer, who will find you if you don't leave a comment) (PS: I named him Patrick :D)


	6. Totally not a date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is pure happiness and joy you are welcome.   
> PD: may I interest you in some ambiguous OtaYurio?

That day, Viktor discovered he was a man of many lies. 

The first lie was in the very moment they settled the meet up through the phone. He said he'd be there at 9 AM. 

It was 8 AM. 

And he had already parked his car in front of the Katsuki residence. 

The second lie came together with a much excited Yuuri, who left his house with a backpack in hand and quite an anxious look in his face. 

"Sorry I'm a bit late" he had apologized, looking at the 9:07 on his watch "Did I keep you waiting much?"

"Nah" he shrugged, starting the engine "I just got here" 

Yuuri looked so happy to exist, reading the pamphlets and fliers of the event and pointing at the skaters, telling Viktor about how he saw their performances on TV and just how talented they were. He then started talking about some of his idols's backgrounds, their stories, everything he had spent sleepless nights reading on Wikipedia. He looked so cute when he really got into a conversation, moving his hands a lot, and sometimes raising his voice without even noticing. 

"Do you know how Yuzuru Hanyu started skating??" He asked, voice high-pitched by excitement and brightened eyes.

Of course he knew about Yuzuru Hanyu's beginnings. He knew everything about Yuzuru Hanyu. In fact, he had read a whole article about that man's life and probably all of his interviews, too. 

"I have no idea" 

He just wanted to keep listening to the sound of his voice as he explained. 

The fourth lie was late to arrive. It dropped by as soon as they entered the highway, and Yuuri asked if there was a problem with him opening the window.

"No, it's ok" He had said "There's no problem, go ahead" 

How could it NOT be a problem, when the wind blew his hair in that fresh, ridiculously beautiful way?? How was it supposed to be ok, when he closed his eyes and breathed in, taking in the air of the outskirts, looking so content, so free, so painfully adorable?? How was it even reasonable, if the sun highlighted his prettiest features: his cheekbones, his long lashes, the commissure of his rosy lips?? How was he supposed to keep his eyes on the road when he looked so stunning??? That boy, indeed, could be deadly dangerous. 

The fifth lie was right after, when Viktor had to tell him to please check the map and guide him since he was a bit lost. In reality, he was more than sure of where he was going. But he just NEEDED to make take him away from that window, if he wanted to avoid crashing the car by mere distraction.

The next lie was aimed to himself, when he promised he wouldn't even THINK about considering all this a date...what if it WAS a date? It kind of looked like a date...was Yuuri aware of it?? Did he thought it was a date too?? Like, this totally sounded like what a teenage girl would label in her diary like a proper, official "date". What was the definition of "date" even?? He decided he wouldn't say it outloud...unless until he checked a dictionary.

"...and then you turn right and take the main route and ...Hey, Viktor, are you even listening to me?"

"Yes" seventh "Of course" 

He decided to turn on the radio, and let Yuuri chose any station he wanted since, well, he was supposed to pay attention to the driving. Not because he was pampering him. Totally not. 

He realized it had been a horrible mistake when he chose to listen to some David Bowie song that was playing. And not because it was David Bowie, in fact, he really liked David Bowie. The problem was that Yuuri started MOUTHING the lyrics, singing lowly, rolling the verses out from his pretty tongue as he bobbed his head a little and drummed his fingers against his thigh. Why was everything he did so distracting?? Viktor had no idea. All he knew was that he had to restore to his eight lie as he told him to change the station since, apparently, he didn't really like David Bowie. 

Ninth wasn't that bad, honestly. It happened when they made a quick stop to stretch their legs, after having been travelling for three straight hours. There was a small store in the gas station, and Viktor asked Yuuri if he wanted anything, since he was going to buy some candy for himself. 

"Sorry, I didn't bring much money with me" 

He returned with two pieces of chocolate, one for each. 

"Why did you buy me one?" Yuuri was that kind of people who seemed allergic to favors "You didn't have to..." 

"There was a 2x1" 

Yeah, sure. 

They talked through the remaining hour inside the car, about everything and anything, as they ate their candy and laughed at some funny car plates. Yuuri had asked Viktor to tell him about his years as a junior skater, quite a lovely moment of his life he was always eager to remember, so he happily complied. He told him how he started training at the age of five, because his mother got him into the sport. And how she decided to train him, since she was too old to compete herself already, and how much he used to enjoy it. He also mentioned his father wasn't really happy with the idea of him being a professional skater, and apparently Viktor did a really good impression of his old man:

"That’s not a real job!" he said in a cranky, angry voice that had Yuuri cracking up in the passenger's seat "You are wasting your time with all that ice nonsense! You need to be an old, grumpy, bald man! Just like your dear father!" 

The boy, between chuckles, couldn't help but asking:

"Why did you stop skating, though"

And Viktor, as he clenched his hands around the wheel, decided to make it a ten:

"I don't remember"

They reached the place and parked the car. The parking lot was full already, so vehicles had started parking outside its boundaries, almost reaching the fall of a nearby cliff. Out of mere luck, they managed to get one of the last places, right in front of the precipice between quite an ugly red car and an oak tree. 

On the bright side, they wouldn't forget where they parked. But on the bad side, they had quite a long walk to the stadium. 

"Why are you smiling like that?" Yuuri asked, as they tried to find what of all the thousands of queues they were supposed to form at. 

Viktor realized he had been ogling him for a while, and calmly blurted out the first lie he was able to come up with.

"Oh, I just thought the plate of that car behind you looked funny too" he pointed at the back of a silver Kia, and faked a little laugh "if you look at the 8 like a B, it looks like it says 'boobs'" 

Yuuri rolled his eyes, giggling, and Viktor had never felt more stupid in his entire life.

"You are unbelievable" 

Unbelievably retarded, indeed.

Once they found out which entrance they should make the line at, they realized why there was no place at the parking lot: the place was crowded. 

Not all people were as gentle and polite as they were, apparently, and they kept elbowing and pushing to get through the mass and...they had been eleven already, right? Why not make it a dozen?

As he was about to be crushed by quite a hairy fat man, Yuuri felt someone grabbing him by the hand and pulling him back to safety. Before he could even register the happenings, the hand was tangling its fingers with his. He gave Viktor a questioning look. 

"It's just so that you don't get lost in the crowd" was the not really convincing answer. 

Yet, Yuuri was really in no mood to complain. His awkwardness wouldn't let him question the other's motives, and he had to admit he was kind of enjoying it, too. Not everyday you have your handsome counselor holding your hand, right? Who was him to deny such an offer? 

"There's so many people..." the boy mumbled, worried, as he tried to catch a glimpse of the end of the line "I hope we can at least see something...what is someone really tall is sitting right in front of us??" 

"You don't have to worry about that" Viktor smirked, flashing out the tickets proudly "because we have first row seats" Yuuri's eyes were as bright as the stadium's lights “Happy birthday, boy”

"No way!" he exclaimed, taking the tickets out from his hands, and corroborating they were, indeed, the best seats "This can’t be true!" 

Viktor smiled fondly, squeezing bliss out of the other's hand, and voiced lie number thirteen like he didn't even noticed:

"Boy, I would never lie to you"

The exhibition was a blink. A fabulous blink. A blink that sounded like Yuuri's favorite music, a blink that had the most beautiful costumes he had ever seen, a blink in which he clapped and he cheered and shed one or two tears...al in all, the greatest blink of his life. No one in his family liked figure skating, really, so it was the first time he attended a professional exhibition and, boy, he was not disappointed. 

Viktor made sure to make him feel like he was at Disneyland or something. With the pathetic excuse of his birthday in hand, he pampered him in every way possible, buying him food from every cart they came across during the interval, and granting his every wish. He even knew one of the skaters from his competing years! And the man was kind enough to let Yuuri get into the changing rooms and ask for autographs. 

To say he was dying of happiness was an understanding. 

"And did you see when he jumped a quadruple??" By the time they were out from the stadium, the sun was already setting, and Yuuri was hugging the pamphlets and autographs against his chest like the ultimate souvenir "It was so...amazing!! How does one even do a quadruple??" 

Viktor smiled, finally finding the silhouette of his car in the horizon, wishing it was a much longer, longer walk. Eternal. An infinite path to walk next to a blissful Yuuri, talking happily about the show.

"I did! It was fantastic!" he cheered a little himself, too, since he couldn't hide his inner fanboy either "I miss being on the ice so much" 

The boy felt a bit sorry. Rewinding on the event, he had seen Viktor grimace during some performances and he knew, wholeheartedly, it wasn't a face of boredom. Was it grief? Jealousy? Anger? He didn't know. He thought about how frustrating it should have been for him to see all of those professionals skating to beautiful music in beautiful costumes and basically living his dreams...while he was stuck counseling a basket case like him.

But he had the feeling there was something else bugging him, something that had stolen many smiles from him that day. Something that had lowered one or two volumes of his voice as he cheered, and that kept drawing that solemn expression on his face every now and then. The same he was wearing in that exact moment. And the same he had seen as soon as he got into the car, before being purposely welcomed with the Nikiforov special heart-shaped smile.

He wanted Viktor to be happy. HE wanted to make him happy. He wanted to make that man as happy as he had made him that day. And he knew he maybe couldn't, because he thought there was nothing about him that could possibly make a man's heart flutter the way his did whenever he was with Viktor. But there was something that could maybe help a bit, and he still hadn't forgotten that little talk they had the day they supposedly first met at school.

"You can come skate with me at the Ice Castle, sometime" 

Viktor's spell was broken and he was suddenly out of his gloomy trance, looking at him, almost intimidating.

"What?" 

"I mean...!" Yuuri got nervous, thinking his plan had backfired, and tried to mumble a way to fix it "J-just if you want! And you can totally do it alone! I don't have to be there, I can leave! Well, not leave since I work there but-" 

"Of course I'd love to, Yuuri" His voice was so dense and smooth, so sweet, the boy felt like he had just swallowed a spoonful of honey "I'd love to skate with you, sometime" 

And, of course, he sealed the words with a smile. And not just any smile this time, but the softest, purest of smiles, that had Yuuri questioning the meaning of beauty. 

It was a shame that, unfortunately, that sad look in his eyes was still there to shade it.

They reached the car, parked in front of the cliff, just where they had left it. Right then, with almost every other vehicle already left, the landscape was worth of a postal. The leafless oak tree, the sunset sky, the precipice, the roars of the highway in the distance...whoa, that was a lot of traffic.

Yuuri pouted, realizing that the crowded route they were seeing from up there, was the one they were supposed to take. 

"Oh no" he sulked, pointing at the jam "It'll take us hours to get home" 

"Hmm this is the worst time to drive" The other man rubbed his chin, thinking of a plan "Maybe we could wait till it gets darker, the road will be emptier then"

"But what do we do in the meantime?" 

Viktor hummed, thinking of the wide list of (ridiculously romantic) possibilities he had planned just in case it was necessary, and almost having a mental breakdown trying to set priorities.

Maybe he could take him dinner at some fancy restaurant...but it was way too early for that yet. They could also go to the cinema and buy a huge bucket of popcorn where maybe, just maybe, their hands could meet by accident. And what about an amusement park?? That was definitely cute and he could buy him some cotton candy! Did he have enough money to both the games AND the cotton candy?? Did Yuuri even LIKE cotton candy??? He wished he did, he would look totally adorable with some pink sugar cloud in hand and...

"We could just stay here, I guess" The boy splashed some cold water onto the heating engines of his brain, turning his mind into a cloud of steam, and making his face grow numb "The view is really pretty"

Viktor plainly looked at him, surprised by the simplicity, yet never disappointed. He wanted to stay...there? In the car? With him? 

"You want to stay here??" He asked, amused.

"Oh" Yuuri, of course, mistaking that amusement with disappointment, was quick to retire his offer "I'm sorry! I thought that maybe, since I don't really have much money left, we could…you know, sit on the car for a while and-”

“It sounds great”

He blinked, perplex, trying to drain the blush out from his reddened, ashamed face.

“Really??”

“Of course! Sounds lovely!” Viktor clapped, enthusiastic as always, opening the car’s door with a smile and signalling him to hop in “We can listen to the radio, too, if you want”

“Uhm, actually…” Yuuri scratched his neck, timidly, looking at the ground as he suggested “I was thinking about something like this”

With not much effort, he jumped and climbed onto the car hood, carefully, not wanting to batter the metal, nor give its owner a heart attack. At first Viktor was confused, when the boy timidly asked him to join him by patting the space beside him. But as soon as he obeyed, and he took in the landscape, the twilight, his Audi, Yuuri’s even breathing right by him…he felt like he was inside a movie. And not any movie. But a romantic, cliché chick flick, with fresh, spontaneous teenagers, low-budget dates and make out scenes in cars. Were they going to make out??? He didn’t think so, but he wasn’t against the idea. 

“This is…different” He said, mesmerized, trying to adapt to all this new concept of improvisation, sunsets and comfortable silences. It kind of reminded him to that bubbling feeling of freedom he had gotten that night, exiting the bar, together with Eros.

“I know…my sister and I used to do this all the time when we were kids. Before my parents got so busy, we used to vacation at the same place each year, a really nice family cottage next to the mountains, and the landscape was, like, SO beautiful. And Mari would always help me climb onto the hood of the truck, and taught me some constellations when the night finally fell”

Viktor watched him as he spoke, the sunset reflected on his glasses, his hands comfortably lying on his stomach, and the most fulfilling expression of relief and contentment he had ever seen him outline so far. The weather was chilly, since winter was just around the corner, but he didn’t seem to mind, looking all warm and cozy as he sunk his head inside his scarf like a tortoise, and breathed in the cold, murky air of the city. That filthy air wasn’t worthy of Yuuri’s lungs. No. Yuuri deserved the freshest of winds to blow his hair and clear his mind, he deserved nothing but pure, distilled oxygen. Yet, he looked so happy right then, so at ease, enjoying air, a landscape, a car, a sky, and a counsellor, who didn’t really deserve him. 

“That sounds wonderful” He murmured, trying to get as lost in the clouds as his companion got, but it was hard. He wasn’t as experienced in freedom, you know? 

“I…really need to thank you”

“For this?”

“For everything” Yuuri sighed, turning his head to look at him, wanting the other man to know just how much he meant it “Today was fantastic, you made so much for me, and I don’t think I deserve all this attention. It’s been…so long since someone celebrated my birthday with me. Hell, it’s been so long since someone took me out of my house for whatever reason!” He chuckled, and Viktor couldn’t help himself as he did it too “What I mean is…thank you, for making this day of the year special again for me”

He wanted to feel happy about it, and he did, deep inside his heart he felt so proud and satisfied to have made that boy simile like that, but…

“I think I’m the one who should be saying that” 

Yuuri peered at him, taken aback, and got the worst of gut feelings when he noticed they had changed rolls: now it was Viktor who was looking at the sky to avoid him. 

There was something odd about his demeanour, like the whole gloomy halo that had been surrounding him all day had suddenly become obvious and palpable, solid, building a wall between them he never thought he’d see. That was not how Viktor worked. When Viktor was upset he smiled either way, which was annoying, since it was always hard to tell his mood. He never sulked, never grimaced, never voiced his complaints out loud. But right then, there was no way of mistaking that face: That was, under any point of view, an expression of sadness.

“What do you mean?” He asked, gulping his insecurities and almost choking on them.

“November the 29th” 

Yuuri stared. He stared with uncertainty, curiosity, and a macabre feeling of painful achievement for seeing Viktor in distress. So gorgeous, yet so devastating. Like some renaissance painting of a tragedy: there was, somehow, an aesthetic side in grief. HE had gotten there, HE had reached a point of no turning-back trust, HE had painted that scene. And he was proud. He was proud someone seemed to feel comfortable by his side, and to know his heart was cozy for someone else to host in. Yet, that didn’t make it less painful, that didn’t keep his palms from sweating, and his soul from twitching somewhere near his throat. It didn’t matter how beautiful the colors, the strokes, or the technique could be…a pained Viktor was a painting meant for heartache. 

“I…I don’t understand” He mumbled and looked at him in the eye, absorbing, injecting himself with the sight like it didn’t hurt; trying to get him to look back but having no results. He just stay stilled, motionless, looking at the sky like it had so much to offer.

“November the 29th was the day my mother died” Yuuri stiffened, jaw falling agape and heart racing, every possible answer he could have thought off now tangling inside his mouth and cancelling itself “Sorry” Viktor chuckled coldly, yet never sarcastically “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I just brought it up because I think there’s something you need to know” 

“Me?” It was hard to tell when he talked so distantly, and when he wasn’t even facing him.

“Yes, you” He said to the sunset “When she died I was fifteen years old, I had just won my first gold as a junior skater, and I was getting ready for my senior debut. But life isn’t fair sometimes, you know? And each time I ever think things are going the right way…something has to fuck it up” His face was so solemn, so drained from every emotion, like he was quoting something else, pushing the words away like they didn’t belong to him, like he could pretend they didn’t hurt “Everything was such a mess from then on. I got so depress I lost three competitions in a row, I cut my hair, I lost all the friends I had…and I eventually stopped skating. My father never really got over it either, and I was who always had to pay for his rage. Never violently, thankfully, he is a calm man. But he’s also really demanding, and I had him basically breathing on the back of my neck all the time for me to concrete my responsibilities. Which included A+ grades, good manners, a prestigious degree, and not talking about my feelings with anyone since, apparently, I shouldn’t let people feel sorry for me” He made a pause to breathe and lick his lips, shivering a bit, maybe from the cold wind reddening his pale nose, or maybe from the one blowing goosbumps inside his chest “The first years were a disaster, a blur of therapists and sleepless nights. Then it kind of got better, but there was always this…awful, bitter feeling in my stomach that came with every November, like some…weird demeanour, I don’t know how to explain it…You see how in December suddenly everything is Christmas related and everywhere you look there’s only red, green and white?” Yuuri nodded “Well…something like that, only that it wasn’t a nice feeling at all, the reminders weren’t colors or cheesy decorations, and, unlike Christmas, I wasn’t eagerly waiting for the day to arrive…on the contrary. I FEARED November the 29th” 

Yuuri was expecting him to start crying at some point, since that was what he was about to do himself. He couldn’t help it, he was a really sensitive person. But Viktor wasn’t even close to tearing up. The tone gave the conversation another kind of atmosphere, more mature and real, instead of just a blurt-out of feelings. The aloofness with which he spoke was what kept them both from sobbing, to be honest, the apathy of this voice wouldn’t let them acknowledge the cruelty of the story, not even to Viktor, who had been through it firsthand. 

There was a moment of silence, which the man used to breathe in and order his thoughts, his own story, not wanting to recognize it as his own. But he did. He knew that was his past, his family, his life, and also his mistakes. He knew he needed to take responsibility of his own feelings. He was a mature adult, he had assisted many years of psychologists and psychiatrists, and he had proudly gotten over it. He may have brought the anecdote all the way to his lips from the darkest part of his soul, but he could somehow avoid the heart in the path. Yet, that didn’t keep his body from mourning whenever the events were recalled. That didn’t keep his stomach from upsetting, his palms from sweating, and the words from tasting like rubbish inside his mouth. That didn’t keep him from despising the anniversary with passion. But it allowed him to keep smiling. 

“It’s kind of like a curse” He giggled, truthfully, yet drowned in cold solemnity “Even last year, not even my boyfriend could get me up from bed that day. All I could think about were those days when all I did was rest and cry, and recreate them all over again, once a year…” And, just when Yuuri thought he’d never see the unique shade of his blue eyes again, he turned around to rest on his shoulder, and face him with the purest, fondest of expressions “…and then you appeared” 

“Uh??” Yuuri did the same thing, turning to the side to face him, only that his face was one of pure bewilderment, oblivious, oh so oblivious to what he was doing to Viktor’s heat. 

“When you said it was your birthday I really doubted if I should take you here today, I thought I maybe should take you to the second show tomorrow, and avoid the risk of losing my mind in front of you. But, to be honest, I wanted to prove myself I could do it. I wanted to know I was capable of going through this, and stop hiding like a fool. And until yesterday’s night, I was afraid I’d frickin ruin it …Yet, do you know what was the first thing I thought when I woke up this morning?” He asked, softly, almost whispering, and Yuuri shook his head “ _Today is Yuuri’s birthday_ ” The boy’s jaw dropped, seeing how Viktor’s eyes got shiner with both mirth and uncried tears, as he grinned at him with wholehearted worship “So I want to thank you, thank you so much, for giving another meaning to November the 29th”

Yuuri had to swallow the knot in his throat not to cry. No, he shouldn’t cry right then, he couldn’t. Not when it was Viktor who was opening up, and not when he was, in reality, so ridiculously happy.

“Why are you telling me this?” He asked, his voice cracking mid-sentence.

“Because I want you to notice just how special you are, and the impact you have in people” He stated, dead serious, staring into his sizzling soul “You are so important, Yuuri. Never forget that”

Of course, of course it all had some counseling moral. Just for a second, he had thought that maybe this conversation could mean…well, no, that was ridiculous. Why else would someone like Viktor tell him something so personal? He shouldn’t feel so special about him opening up, really. Because although he did believe him, and he was really glad he helped him through something so moving, he still didn’t understand just how vital he had become, how essential. He was in no way aware of his own worth. 

So as the man stared at him like he was the world, he returned the smile with outraging simplicity. With no idea, of what Viktor’s really meant. 

“You are important too, Viktor” He said, sincerely, laughing at the soft blush now appearing on the other’s cheeks “You are so important to me” 

It wasn’t fair. That boy wasn’t fair. 

How he dare cancel the grass, the oak tree, the clouds? How he dare block every ray of sunlight? How he dare mute the chirp of birds and the whistling of the wind? How he dare take the landscape away from him? How he dare BECOME the landscape?? Reflect the colors of the sky in his glasses, giggle as softly as the humming of the breeze, with that smile that shined brighter than the sunbeam. How he DARE mess up with his heart like that? 

As he noticed night had almost completely fallen (and he only realized because he there was less Yuuri to see within the darkness), he couldn’t help but marvel at just how wonderful that day had been. The entire car ride, the talks, lunch, the laughter, the show, that exact moment…it was perfect. A perfect November the 29th. A perfect day in general, spent with a perfect person. Well, correction: Yuuri wasn’t perfect. Yuuri was anxious, Yuuri was insecure, Yuuri was bad at expressing and dealing with his emotions, and Yuuri probably had a load more flaws he hadn’t even found yet.

But Yuuri was only human, and Yuuri made him feel more special and complete than he had felt in years. It was absurd how his mind hadn’t realized how much he needed him until that very moment, with their faces being centimetres away from each other’s, laying on top of his car, engulfing in the last seconds of twilight. 

He could do it. 

He could do it right then. Just a small, tiny movement. Just with moving forwards and tilting his head a bit…he could seal that day in the best way possible, give the obvious, cheesy ending to that teenage romantic movie they had been playing all day. He could. He totally could. He could follow his heart, his instincts, his gut, all telling him to close his eyes and just _do it_. He could, and he would.

It was only when he leaned in, when he was so close, when Yuuri was staring at him with his eyes as wide as the imminent moon, it was only then…that he realized he couldn’t. 

He couldn’t do it.

Want it or not, Viktor was still his counselor. Just his counselor. He was supposed to untangle the messes inside his head, not continue to add more. He was an adult, and although Yuuri was fairly mature himself, he was still a student. A student who needed a counselor. A serious counselor, someone he could trust. And serious counselors didn’t kiss their patients. No matter how much they wanted. Nor how pretty they looked beneath the white moonlight. 

As they got down from the car hood and properly buckled up inside the vehicle instead, Yuuri suddenly started chuckling, and had the other quizzical as he turned on the engine.

“So you really ARE gay, then” The boy said, and he could see him smirking through the window’s reflection.

Viktor almost chokes on his spit. 

“What??” He blurted out, abruptly stepping into the break and looking at him. Had he realized he almost kissed him?? Oh my god, what the hell was he supposed to say now?? 

“You mentioned you had a boyfriend” He teased, and Viktor almost prayed a rosary. 

“Oh” He laughed, uncomfortably, putting the car back in march “I guess you caught me there” 

Yuuri giggled again, crossing his arms smugly, and mocked in a sing-song voice:

“Hehe, you can’t hide anything from me”

Oh boy…

The return was a little bit longer than the going, since even though they weren’t stuck in a traffic jam, there still were more cars in the highway. The first two hours they talked lively, with Yuuri asking right and reverse about his mysterious ex boyfriend, and Viktor getting stupidly embarrassed. That boy could be such a little fucking tease…At first he didn’t understand why he was so snooping about the matter, but then he realized that maybe that was the first reference of a same-sex couple he ever had. So, even though his ex wasn’t his favorite conversation topic, he answered anyways. Just to cease his curiosity. 

They stopped at a pull in restaurant, chosen by Yuuri, who’s only criteria was the fact it was close and he was starving. Viktor had never done something like that, so…spontaneous. Well, he DID move out from his father’s house from one day to the other and without knowing how to properly use a stove. But he loved it. He loved that lifestyle. He loved hand-picking places at random, trying new fast food, not caring about timetables, and lying on top of car hoods. And he loved to have someone who did all that stuff with him. Who was also artless and free-spirited, and took him out for adventures. 

They played with their food, since it wasn’t really tasty, and did quite a stupid photo-shoot with some road signs. There was a publicity billboard of some cheese brand or something, with a family sitting around a table looking at their plates like Jesus had suddenly manifested on their pasta, and Yuuri posed next to them doing the exact ridiculous expression, but looking at his inedible burger instead. Viktor was cracking up, and threw his image as a responsible adult to the garbage as he posed in front of a dog food ad that had a poodle begging for croquettes, and pretended to be begging for the horrible fires. They took a lot of selfies, too (Phichit would have been proud), some goofy ones, some others at the restaurant while looking at the food with disgust, and some really nice ones to keep as a memory. 

Once they were back in the car, they used the last few hours of the trip to recall everything they did that day. They made fun of each other, pointing out stupid things they did or say, and at some point they ended up talking about the cosmos and the meaning of life (What? Wasn’t that how every profound 1 AM conversation ended up?) Viktor noticed how the other’s voice started to douse with every passing second, how his eyes started to slowly lid, and how yawns started to break into his every sentence. And by the time they were just missing some few forty kilometers, Yuuri had fallen soundly asleep at the passenger’s seat. 

When they arrived, Viktor took a moment before shaking him awake. He stopped the car in front of his house, breathing in, stopping the engine and looking at his adorable sidekick, now slightly snoring with his head resting on the window. He didn’t want to wake him up. If he did, if the boy opened his eyes and opened the car’s door, they everything would be over. That day, that perfect day in which they had become so close and went through so much together, it would dress on mist and get rid of any sensation to turn into a memory, and they would be back to being just counselor and student. So he stared, he stared at him for a while. His parted lips, his never-seen-before expression of calmness, the up and down movement of his chest…god, just how beautiful could someone be. He caressed his hair, tucking a brown lock behind his ears, a gave a deep, sorrowful breath before shaking his shoulder. 

“Yuuri, hey” He whispered, carefully, stroking his back fondly “We are here” 

Yuuri woke up to the sound of crickets, and the imposing view of Viktor’s eyes on him. He rubbed his lids, still confused and drowsy, looking through the window and realizing they were, effectively, right in front of his house.

“Hmm, what time is it?” He mumbled, adorably, with his mouth still numbed by sleep. 

“Around 2 AM” Viktor chuckled, unbuckling his seatbelt for him, and unable to help himself as stroked his hair “It’s not your birthday anymore” 

Yuuri laughed, stretching a bit, before he got out from the car and picked his bag from the backseat. He was still sleepy, apparently, and not very agile, since he dropped his keys in front of the porch. And it wasn’t an easy task to find them within the darkness of an unlit suburb street, and when his mind was still fogged by slumber. 

“Let me help you” Viktor sighed, kneeling in front of him in the ground, touching every patch of grass beneath him until he came across the distinctive skate-shaped keychain “Here it-”

When he was about to stand up, however, he was interrupted by this slight, gentle tap at the top of his head, that just like a button to his nervous system had managed to paralyze him in place. He stood there, still, with the soft feeling of playful fingers still lingering on his hair part, and took a hand to cover it almost instinctively. He knew it wasn’t a déjà vu. He knew he wasn’t just imagining things. With his jaw clenched as hard as rock he looked upwards to meet the eyes of a much oblivious Yuuri, who had no idea of what he had just done. 

“Why did you do that?” Viktor asked him, still kneeling on the floor, fearing he may notice the way his legs were trembling if he tried to stand up right then. 

“I…I don’t know” The boy scratched his head, unsure himself, unable to deduce why his instincts had told him to do it, nor why it seemed so oddly familiar. 

“Oh”

Why was Viktor so shook though? Was he self conscious about his hairline? He didn’t know. But as the man stood up from the ground and handed him the keys, he looked like he had just seen a ghost.

“Goodbye, boy” He said, opening the car’s door, as he were escaping the scene as soon as possible “Sleep well” 

But Yuuri didn’t want him to escape. He didn’t know what he had done wrong, nor what was that weird, upset feeling in his own stomach, but he didn’t want that lovely day to end like that. Everything had been too perfect, too good to be true, and too good to end with a simple wave of hands. 

Unthinkingly, being an act of mere impulse or maybe wholehearted, pure adoration, his shame rotted as he ran all the way back to the car, and jumped to wrap his arms around Viktor’s unready neck. 

The man almost fell back, surprised, his whole body so frozen by shock it took him some full seconds to understand what was going on, but finally melting within the embrace. He hugged him back, tightly, wrapping his hands around his torso and diving his nose into the sea of tangled, dark hair, smelling, sighing, absorbing his heat like a desperate love-sponge, wishing their bodies were liquid, wanting to merge into the other and become one, no need for separate limbs, chests or hands. He hugged him like he hadn’t hugged anyone in such a long, long time. And let himself be hugged, too, by divine, lovely arms that were trying to press his broken pieces back together. 

He didn’t know how long it lasted, how much time they spent pressed onto each other on a weird knot of limbs and winter wear, wishing it could last forever. But as he was driving back to his neighborhood, hands in the wheel and head on the clouds, he could still feel those clumsy, strong arms around him, the scent of his shampoo, the feeling of hands going up and down his clothed spine, and he could still vividly see his lips curving into a smile and mouthing “thank you”, before he disappeared behind the front door. 

That hug would, indeed, last forever. Metaphorically speaking, inside Viktor’s cheesy, love-struck mind.

**_“…and then we hugged in front of my porch, and said goodbye to each other…and did I mention he smelt wonderful?? And he was so kind all the time, gosh, he even took my hand so that I didn’t get lost in the crowd, and offered to pay for all of my food just because it was my birthday aaaaa I had such a lovely time, Viktor is amazing”_**

Yuuri finished sending the voice note and tucked his phone inside his pocket as he waited for Phichit to reply. Not the easiest of tasks, honestly, since he was carrying like three groceries bags and his pockets were kind of tight and not to mention his frozen fingers. But he managed to do it either way, so that he didn’t have to hold any extra stuff as he walked the slippery, icy streets of the season’s first snowfall. 

His phone started buzzing again and he, somehow, managed to maneuver his packages in a way he could properly take a look at the screen. Phichit had sent another audio for a reply, and he did every possible movement to take the speaker to his ear. 

**_“I have so many things to tell you right now. First of all: What the fuck it was your BIRTHDAY?? And you didn’t tell me?? I’m like…so shook right now. Outraged. Secondly: Chill, dude, you just sent me like a seven minute audio, you should thank my brother locked me out of the house and I have nothing better to do. And thirdly: When’s the wedding?”_**

Yuuri arched a brow, looking back at the screen to see if there was another audio to explain the why of that last comment, but there weren’t any more messages. And he didn’t seem to be recording another one, either. So he decided to ask…even though typing was hard with so many things in hand.

**_“Sorry I didn’t tell you about my birthday…I didn’t know you would care, honestly”_** He wrote, his fingers freezing and his groceries almost falling **_“Wedding? What are you talking about?”_**

He didn’t even attempt to put his phone away, since he knew Phichit was something like a typing medalist. 

**_“Uhm, excuse me?? Your wedding with Viktor, duh ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)”_**

Yuuri almost drops the phone. 

**_“W-what are you talking about??” He sent an audio this time, since writing was way too hard in those conditions and, apparently, so was breathing “Don’t make that kind of jokes!!”_**

**_“Yuuri…do you think I’m an idiot?”_**

His hands were shaking, and he knew it wasn’t just the cold. Oh god, he was such an imbecile! Did Phichit know he was attracted to Viktor?? He realized he liked men?? Fuck, what if he was mad at him now?? He probably was, damn, what was he supposed to say on his defense!? He kept trying to record an answer but all he did was mumble and ended up erasing it within two seconds, unable to excuse himself. And just when he was about to start hyperventilating, he noticed the other was typing again. 

**_“I thought it was kind of like an understandment you had a crush on that man?? Since like, ever??”_**

Yuuri had to seat down, but there weren’t any benches nearby. He thanked the gods it was Sunday, and the fact every shop was closed and the streets almost empty, for him to be able to deal with his panic attack in peace. He let his body lean on a closed bakery’s door, right next to the entrance’s stairs, covered by a green awning that guaranteed a snow-free floor. Setting the groceries aside, he approached his phone to his face once again, rereading the message all over again, and trying to let the info set in. 

So…Phichit _knew_ about it _beforehand_???

**_“You knew??_** He typed, not trusting his voice for a recording. 

**_“Dude, are you serious right now?? (╯°□°)╯ You could see it from space!!”_** He read, taken aback **_“The day I recorded that video of you at the gymnasium, it was because I thought you two were dating or something and so I followed you! (ᇂ_ᇂ)”_**

Yuuri almost had a stroke, making a way too hard of an effort trying to calm his heartbeat and his will to smash his head through a bricked wall. 

**_“What!??”_**

**_“Seriously!! You two look at each other like you were the peanut butter to your jam! He always…smiles at you in this cheesy way, and calls YOU and only YOU to his office to talk ALL the damn TIME! And you, for the love of god, you talk about him like he was your lord and savior! Have you even seen your face when he waves at us in the hallways?? It’s like: OH, MR.NIKIFOROV PLEASE TAKE ME NOW. You are both like SO in love! Can you please stop being dramatical and just marry already??”_**

He couldn’t believe he was actually listening that audio. 

He was experiencing so many different emotions all at the same time he felt like an emotional salad. But the salad was too big and the bowl way too small, and everything was falling and making a huge mess as he tried to toss it. There was fear, of course, and amazement, and a bit of nervousness too, and also happiness and hope, and thankfulness, and…was “seizure” an emotion?? Because that’s what he felt right then. 

**_“So…You don’t care I’m gay?”_** He typed, as fretful as ever. Although his heart already knew the answer, his anxious nerves always needed a backup. And as he read Phichit’s respond, with the warmest of smiles on his face, he took a screenshot as an eternal proof to mute the voices inside his head: 

**_“?????? No??????? Why would I care?? You are awesome??”_**

He smiled, hugging his phone against his chest for a bit and breathing out, exhaling all the clogged, stuffed air he didn’t know he had been holding. 

**_“No, YOU are awesome”_** He wrote **_“Thank you, Phichit”_**

**_“Wait…you are in the closet?? I’m the first person you ever come out to?? (☉_☉)”_**

Yuuri crooked a grin, picking up the groceries with one hand, not really caring anymore if the eggs broke.

**_“Well…Viktor and my sister know too…but it’s kind of a long story”_** He typed and walked, clumsily **_“Plus, it’s not like I have many friends to come out to hahaha”_**

He realized that texting and walking was almost as dangerous as texting and driving, as he almost ran onto a light post. 

**_“AWWWW I FEEL SO SPECIAL RIGHT NOW (ღ˘⌣˘ღ)…even though you technically didn’t tell me…I’m offended (ಠ╭╮ಠ)”_** Yuuri rolled his eyes as he read **_“Didn’t you trust me?? Am I not special?? (╥﹏╥)”_**

Yes, he was special. He was more than special. He was his first friend, the first person to approach him, talk to him, and also listen. After so many years of having trouble to connect with people, the fact someone so extroverted and fun like Phichit was voluntarily hanging out with him made miracles on his confidence. He always thought funny, cool people didn’t have time for him, that they were too busy with their as funny and cool friends, having adventures and meet ups like those squads from TV. And suddenly this guy comes into his life, with his social media obsession and his three hamsters, needing a friend just as much as Yuuri needed it. 

**_“Dude, do you think I go around town screaming HEY I’M GAY to every passerby??”_** He texted, laughing at the mere thought **_“You SHOULD feel special…just consider you are the first person I don’t feel deadly mortified to tell. You are like…the only exception”_**

And, of course, Phichit’s next message was an audio singing The Only Exception by Paramore.

“…and I almost kissed him, dude, I ALMOST KISSED HIM!” Viktor smashed his head against the table, pretending to cry a river, so that he didn’t start actually crying “I couldn’t help myself!! It’s not fair when he looks so DAMN GEOGREOUS!! I believe god is testing me, Chris, he is putting me through his paces. He wants to check if he needs to book a special place in hell for me because I jumped a student or something! Damn, I think I’m going crazy”

Christophe laughed, giving his friend a pat in the back across the bar’s table, and pouring some more whiskey to his coffee. 

“There there, big baby” He cooed, offering him the drink and winking an eye “Love crazy is the best crazy” 

Viktor grabbed the cup and did bottoms up like it was a shot. His nose wrinkled at the coffee’s bitterness, not really liking the combination, but taking it either way because he didn’t want to be the only weirdo in the bar who drank pure liquor at 4 in the afternoon on a Sunday. 

“Not when you are love crazy about a STUDENT” He sighed, resting his tired face on the palm of his hand “I need to forget about him, like, right away”

“Hmm, I don’t think that’s really necessary” His pal took a sip of his own drink, looking like a total playboy with his hair on point and his legs crossed like a gentleman, totally flawless next to a sleep-deprived Viktor.

“Of course you would say that, you are the sex ed. teacher” He complaint, playing with a little stain of coffee dirtying the table “You can fuck a student and you’d be kind of like, doing your job or something. I’m the _counselor_ , Chris. That boy is supposed to trust me and see me like, a part of the institution, not a part of his life. I think that, if I really appreciate him, I should let him go. I don’t want to bring more problems to his life, and having an adventure with the school’s counselor is something I think he would totally not sign in for” 

Viktor heard the other hum in agreement, as he continued to draw little patterns with the spilled beverage. There was a moment of silence, in which the only thing they heard was the irrelevant murmur of nearby tables chattering, and the occasional sipping of his friend’s drink. He had taken a decision, he had promised himself he would make Yuuri the happiest person on earth, and to do that he had to take the roll of a counselor, not a boyfriend. He was about to be in terms with his own messed up thoughts, pouring a bit more of coffee from the kettle, when Chris decided to break the silence:

“He must be great in bed though” 

Viktor dropped the fucking kettle. 

“Are you serious right now???” He complaint, trying to dry the hot coffee out from his new pants. Fortunately, there wasn’t much left inside the kettle, and there wasn’t much to clean up “Did you seriously HAVE to say that??” 

“What?? You said that when he clubbed he was like this kind of sex god! You think he would be any different in private??” 

Viktor’s face was so red they could have hanged him as a Christmas decoration. He grabbed his head with both hands, pressing it hard, trying to squeeze shut the entry to the horde of dirty thoughts now assaulting his conscience. It didn’t work. 

“Yeah, but…! That’s just when he’s drunk!” He stammered, kicking out the mental image of a moaning Eros tangled in his bed sheets “In reality he’s just a cute, innocent guy!” 

“Oh, my sweet Viktor, the cute and shy ones are the worst” Other people at the bar were beginning to stare, not only because of the spilled coffee incident, but because of the rather loud conversation “I bet he’s kinky as fuck” 

“Can you NOT???” 

“I cannot not” Christophe winked, handing him some more napkins to help him finish clean the mess up, and letting out a long, dreamy sigh “ahh, young love” 

Viktor sat down properly again, totally resigned, with his pants somehow dry. There really was no chance, wasn’t it? He sulked, looking downwards, trying to distract himself from the mess inside his head, and tracing the name “Yuuri” with the now much bigger stain of coffee.

There were many things that Yuri Plisetsky had learnt to hate. 

He hated summer with its disgusting heat and winter with its annoying cold, and spring and autumn with their irresolute in-between nothingness. He hated Christmas, and Easter, and almost every holiday. He hated birds, they were stupid as fuck. And what the hell was up with mosquitoes? He hated those fuckers too. And flies, and itchy sweaters, and romantic movies. He painfully hated bus number 53 that was always late and had him waiting at the stop for hours everyday. He hated routine, and timetables and deadlines, too. And he hated school, he despised it with all his heart.

But mostly, Yuri really hated people. 

He hated talking about himself, since it made him feel intruded, and he hated talking about others, since he really didn’t give a fuck. He hated public places, where it seemed everyone was always staring at him. He hated how it was all about image all the time, how everyone cared so much about what others thought of them. He hated how everybody always pretended to care about others, and acted all so “kind and flawless” all the time. He hated when they ranted about how much they worried about him, how they said they wanted to help, even though there was nothing they could really do about it. And they knew it. No one really cared about him, nor anyone, really. They just cared about feeling good with themselves. Just like him. Only that he didn’t pretend to be some kind of Snow White sweetheart. It made him feel uncomfortable. People in general made him feel uncomfortable. And that’s why he hated them, and that’s why he avoided contact at every cost.

But there were some things Yuri didn’t hate though. And one of those things, was painting. 

He had to stay some extra hours at school to finish his canvas before the deadline. And even though he hated extra hours, and he hated school and he hated deadlines, he didn’t really mind. 

He was working on the picture of a torso, scratched all the way through by what seemed to be a giant claw. And, peeking from the inside, seemed to be the green, scared eyes of a kitten, trying to escape its prison of flesh. It had been a long time since he used oils, to be honest, but he had managed to get the hang of them again very quickly. He was especially good at paining fur, he made it look so realistic. Also blood, which was kind of creepy. But he was used to his drawings being kind of violent already, so he drew the gore and torn skin with the same naturalness one would paint a bowl of fruits. 

He also hated bowl of fruits paintings. Who the fuck did that shit??

As he began to clean his hands with quite a dirty rag, realizing it was already late and that he should get going, he couldn’t help but get caught in the image of his own painting. It wasn’t just that he felt kind of proud, or the fact he only just noticed some tiny mistakes in illumination. No, it was something else what had him staring like a fool. He always found it annoying when people commented on how violent and disturbing his paintings could be, and it was even worst when they asked him if it had something to do with his feelings. He hated it, he hated when people were so intrusive and opinionative. And that’s why he was so mad when he started asking that same question to himself. 

“Nice painting” 

He almost jumps out of his skin, as soon as he heard the deep, sudden voice coming from behind his back. Holy sanctified fuck, he thought he was alone! He almost had three consecutive heart attacks! 

Pissed off, and ready to intimidate the intruder until they left with their dignity up their ass and their pants wetted, he turned around with clenched fists and gritted teeth…only to almost wet himself in the attempt, as soon as he saw who the person was. 

Standing right behind him, with his usual solemn face and badass haircut, was no one but the cool guy from the poetry club. Staring at the painting. Staring at him. 

“I really like the concept” Otabek insisted on talking, not realizing he was about to give the poor guy permanent cardiovascular damage, as he inspected the painting thoroughly “It reminds me to a poem of mine” 

Yuri was seriously considering adding his fucking heart and its revolts to his hate-list. Whenever this happened, whenever someone randomly popped up and he suddenly forgot how to act like a proper human being, there was always the old and trustful easy way out: Tell them to fuck off. It was quick, it was effective, and he already knew how to draw the scariest of faces since he used it on a daily basis. It always worked. 

But he kind of didn’t want to tell him to fuck off.

“W-what are you doing here?” was that what a normal someone would ask?

“I wanted to see you”

Someone call 911, please.

“To see me??” He asked, confused to no end, trying to remember how to blink, and breathe, and pump blood through his veins. 

“I thought you were going to join the poetry club, you know, since I saw you there the other day” Oh…he shouldn’t tell him he was spying on him, right? That was totally not creepy at all “But then someone of my class told me she saw you at the arts club, so I thought I find you here” 

Yuri didn’t understand. Why was he looking for him?? What did he want??? There were just so many questions trying to get through his mouth right then, in no specific order nor queue, just pushing each other and tangling and getting stuck in his lips. So, in the end, he couldn’t answer at all. He just stood there, staring, trying not to lose his usual impenetrable demeanor but kind of aware it was already too late to worry about that.

“I don’t understand…do I know you?” 

“Yeah…you are Yuri Plisetsky, aren’t you?” Yuri nodded, shook “I figured out you wouldn’t remember me” 

“Remember you?” The conversation was apparently reduced to Yuri repeating the last part of everything the other said and adding a question mark. He felt so stupid, so clueless “What are you talking about?”

“I’m Otabek Altin” Altin, Altin…Altin. Why did it ring a bell?? “We used to be in the same elementary school” 

Oh…. _oh_.

“I…I think I remember you” He said, leaning on his memories, trying to distract himself from the awkward present “Weren’t you a year older, thought?”

“Yeah, but we shared an art class either way” That was something he certainly didn’t remember. The shock must have shown through his face though, since Otabek continued to explain “I think it was in second grade” 

“Really??” 

“Really” He smiled. Who the fuck could still look that badass while smiling?? Yuri was pissed “I remember I thought you were very talented by then, but it seems you got better”

Yuri knew he was talented. Of course he was. Of course he noticed the sly looks people gave at his sketches in class, or course he heard the gasps and the comments about his techniques, and of course he realized he was the arts club’s new favorite. He knew he was talented, he knew it upside down, and he was already familiar with the feeling of pride.

However, it was nowhere near to what it felt hearing it from other’s tongue. 

“Thanks” he whispered, unable to find his voice, lost somewhere in between his head’s clamor. And, as a matter of bravery, he decided to add “You are a cool poet, I guess”

“Oh, so you heard me the other day?” 

Abort the mission, I repeat, abort, abort, ABORT! 

“Eh?? No! Well, yeah but…I was just passing by and…you have a very loud fucking voice you know??” He restored to insults again, classic Yuri, his one and only way of dealing with people.

Only that he hadn’t meant to insult him right then.

The offense had escaped, like a word sneeze, a reaction from his immune system against a threat. Since when was every single passerby a threat? Since when didn’t he have control of what he said? Since when did the insults build him, instead of being the other way around? He was ashamed, ashamed of his insecurities, and ashamed of the nasty way in which he dealt with them. 

And, just when he was about to restore to an escapade, he heard the other laugh.

A dry laugh. Short and concise, almost sarcastic but not really. Was that the way cool people laughed? So manly and casual? 

He didn’t understand. What was so funny to make a guy like him hint a laugh?? 

“Yeah, I have a potent voice” He shrugged, returning to his chill, unperturbed nature “You are as salty as I remember” 

Yuri smirked, good at hiding his embarrassment, but actually glad he hadn’t scared him away. Should he compliment him to make some kind of insult-praise balance?? Or would that be some gay as Viktor shit? Fuck, socializing was hard. 

How do you “friends” someone??? How do you claim to be someone’s bro??? Was there a form to fill?? A contract to sign??

“It’s a good voice though…” He said, not really sure of how that kindness thingy really worked “For poetry, I mean” 

“Thanks, I guess” Was it his imagination, or was the awkwardness of the situation not only one-sided? “I like your tattoo, it’s really cool” 

He unconsciously took a hand to his forearm, where the picture of a black inked tiger roared. That was his favorite tattoo, and the most visible one, also. It also had some kind of colorful, light background, like some kind of watercolor halo, which contrasted the darkness of the main drawing. He was really proud of it too, and he loved when people commented on it…even when it was just oldies at the geriatric house saying he looked like a delinquent. 

“Thanks” He said, trying not to look too flattered “I designed it myself” 

“Cool” 

“Cool” Yuri repeated, but immediately scolded himself for his lack of originality “Rad” 

“Rad?” 

“Rad, like from, radical” 

“Who uses the word rad nowadays?” The cool guy arched a brow, grinning. And Yuri was new to this whole embarrassment feeling, so he obviously assumed that if he felt like he wanted to dig a whole and bury himself alive, it was because he had just been made fun of. 

“I can use it all the fuck I want, you asswipe” He barked, showing his teeth like a rabid dog, expecting to scare him away. However, instead, Otabek did that short, cough-like chuckle again.

Yuri needed to learn how to laugh like that. Yuri needed to learn how to laugh, in general. 

“Anyways…” He sighed, putting his cool hands inside the cool pockets of his cool leather jacket, looking so cool, as always “It was great seeing you again”

Wait…was he going to leave?? So early?? Without giving him the Friends form to fill??

“Yeah, really weird though” In reality, he actually needed to leave too. The geriatric house had limited visiting hours, and his grandpa was probably waiting for him “I must go, I have a place to be and I don’t trust that motherfucking number 53 bus to come anytime early” 

“Oh? You take bus number 53? Yeah, it sucks. I used to take it all the time” Otabek added, fishing for something inside his bag “Which one do you take? The one that goes up or down the street?” 

“Up”

Had he just found someone who shared his hatred for bus number 53?? And who didn’t mind his potty mouth?? And that had the coolest of hairstyles?? And that wrote beautiful poetry?? 

“My house’s on the same way” He pulled out the shiny, beautiful keys of a brand new Yamaha “I can give you a ride” 

AND HE HAD A MOTORBIKE????

He needed to keep this guy close…

“Are you serious?? You have a bike???” He jumped excitedly, quickly putting his painting at a safe place, and leaving all of the oils spread around because he had no business cleaning that shit “That’s so cool, dude!” 

Otabek smirked, staring at him from the corner of his eye, as they walked down the hallways and towards the school’s parking lot.

“Yeah, I guess it’s…rad” 

Yuri punched him in the shoulder, hard, but not really. 

Maybe, just maybe, he didn’t hate ALL people, after all.

“Where are you spending your holidays?” Yuuri asked, his voice fading as he skated away, drawing patterns on the ice. 

“Uh?” 

Viktor was caught off guard, not really in the mood to put his brain to function, as he tied the laces of the cheap-public-rink skates. 

“Christmas holidays?” Yuuri repeated, doing some cute little spins “That start in like…a week?” 

The man blinked, realizing distraction may have made him mess up the laces’ knot, and doing it all over again. He was, by nature, a clumsy person…but those were some record levels, honestly. 

“Oh, ehm…I’m not going anywhere” He declared, brushing it off with a shrug “How about you?” 

“Anywhere?” Yuuri didn’t answer the question “Aren’t you going to visit your family??” 

“It wouldn’t be a Merry Christmas if I did…nor a happy birthday” He confessed, finishing with the first skate and reaching for the other “I’ll just stay here and enjoy all the sacred holiday discounts” 

“You’ll spend Christmas alone?? And what about coach Feltsman?”

“Only Christmas Eve, because Yakov will be celebrating with some friends of his. But he’ll organize a small family reunion for me at midday on the 25th” He shrugged, indifferent “He keeps inviting Lilia even though they broke up years ago. She doesn’t have a family to celebrate, either, except for Yurio. She cooks some really good chicken though” 

Yuuri pouted, skating all the way to the rink’s rail and leaning on it, right in front of him. He felt kind of sorry, thinking about Viktor welcoming his birthday alone, while everyone else was way too busy welcoming Christmas. But he seemed to be used to it nevertheless, since he looked so uncaring. How did he use to spend his holidays back at home? He couldn’t help but wonder. 

“Oh…” He mumbled, looking away as always “We always celebrate at the hotel…there’s this huge banquet, with all the guests that stay there during the holidays. There’s delicious food from the hotel restaurant’s cooks, and music, and lots of champagne to toast” Hearing that last comment, Viktor threw him a glance “What?? I’m not going to drink in front of my family!” 

“I know, I know” He chuckled lowly, grinning “I’m just pulling your leg, you drunkie” 

Yuuri grimaced and crossed his arms, totally not amused. 

“Hurry up and get your old ass on the rink” He scorned, sticking out his tongue “Phichit’s coming here in a while to go have dinner with me, we don’t have all night” 

Viktor was kicked out of his own mind. 

“Old?? Excuse me?? Is it because of my hair!?” He panicked, covering his hairline and looking at him with a pout “When did you become so rude??” 

“Maybe Yurio rubbed it on me” Yuuri giggled, opening the rink’s gate impatiently, and grabbing his counselor by the arm “Come on! I didn’t really mean it! Come skate with me!” 

Viktor smiled, unable to deny the offer, no matter how hard he tried to act offended. He almost fell face to the floor as soon as he tried to stand up, suddenly remembering how hard it was to walk with your skates on without the blade guards. Plus, it wasn’t easy to find his balance with the other guy pulling him towards the rink at his own pace. 

Inevitably, and he obviously blames the cheap skate shoes, he falls forwards and into the ice, tripping over the rink’s border. And, just to spice things up, he drowned the boy with him. 

Believe it or not, it had been actually not intentional to end up lying there, on top of a chuckling Yuuri, way too distracted to notice the frost and the humiliation now covering them both.

“Are those the skills of an ex junior champion?” He teased with a shit-eating grin on his face “Falling before you even get to the ice?” 

“You are sassy today” both of them chuckled, getting up from the ground and rubbing the frost out of their bodies “It was YOU who made me fall though” 

_Yeah, fall…but not into the ice._

“Hmm, sure” 

“It’s true!” He insisted, stretching the soreness out from his legs “You pulled me against the border and broke my perfect professional skater’s balance” 

Yuuri snorted. 

“I did? Sorry, I can’t see a thing without my glasses” 

“You should have brought your contacts” Viktor began to skate around, inuring his muscles, getting used to the weight of his own body on blades once again. 

“I usually skate alone, so it doesn’t really mind if I’m blind as a mole” He shrugged, skating backwards with his hands behind his back, and looking way too adorable and graceful for anyone to take “It was nice from Yuuko to let you stay here after closing hours, too” 

“I told you she didn’t hate you” His feet embraced the familiar setting, the slight pain, the fluidity of their every step. It had been months since he last stood on an ice rink, but it already felt like his body remembered, and complied to the ice’s every caprice. Kind of like an ice mermaid, only that he wouldn’t say that outloud, because it sounded pathetic “Now, on to business…what kind of jumps can you perform?” 

Yuuri hummed, pressing the front of the blade against the ice firmly, and stopping his course for a second. 

“Hmm, only simple ones” He confessed, kind of embarrassed “Just simple Salchow and Toe Loop…once I landed a double Salchow though!” 

“Oh? May I see?” 

The boy stiffened, nervously, as he saw the other stopping by the rail to observe him. 

Why did it suddenly feel like Viktor could throw like, eight simultaneous pairs of eyes at him?? 

“Oh, ehm…what should I try?” 

“Try the double!” The man ordered, waiting, observing “I want to see it!” 

Yuuri gulped, and he swore he could feel the ice melting under his feet. 

“But I…I can’t do it” 

“No with that attitude!” Viktor complaint, clapping, trying to make him hurry up “You need to think positively!” 

Somehow, positively seemed to be harder than the double Salchow.

“Ok” He breathed in, skating to the centre of the rink, trying to remember what he did the day he landed it and replicate the movements “I can do this” 

“Of course you can! Because…” 

“Because I’m a great skater and I’m totally not pissing my pants right now!”

“That’s the spirit!” Viktor cheered, jumping proudly “Now go for it, tiger!” 

He fell. 

And so did his dignity. 

The jump’s toe had been alright, Viktor noticed, but he lost balance as he landed, and ended up curled into a pained ball in the ice. 

“Are you alright?” He approached him, offering him a hand to stand up. Yuuri nodded, rubbing a sore spot on his leg “Do you want to try again?”

This time, he shook his head. 

“No, I… I’ll fall again” He chew on his lower lip, ashamed. He was actually glad right then he hadn’t brought his contacts. If he had seen Viktor’s disappointed face right then, he would have probably cried.

“Nonsense. How do you expect to learn how to do it if you don’t try??” 

Oh, he tried. He really tried. In fact, he spent hours and hours of his life, every single day of work after his shift was over, every minute until his feet started bleeding, he spent it practicing. 

But right then, Viktor’s stare right then felt like a ton of bricks. 

He knew how it worked already: If someone was looking, he fucked it up. And it was almost an explicit rule that, if someone as attractive as Viktor were looking, then he would not only fall but probably die in the process or something. 

“But I…”

“Look, Yuuri, I promised I would teach you” His counselor was apparently his figure skating teacher, too, which was already odd enough “Do you want me to give you a demonstration?” 

A demonstration?? Right there?? By an ex professional?? AND FREE!?? 

Where did he have to sign??? 

Apparently, just a timid nod was enough, since right after the short response, the man was skating to the centre of the ice, and performing a perfect, flawless, Nikiforov-worthy double Salchow.

Yuuri was torn between crying or asking for an autograph.

“See? It’s not that hard, the Salchow is the easiest one!” Of course it was easy for him! He was…him!! “Come on, try it again. I want to see where your balance fails” 

And so he did, horribly, as expected. And this time, he did get quite an awful scratch on his hand. 

“Ugh, I suck” He grumbled, lying flat on the ice like some kind of surrendering starfish. 

“No you don’t” Viktor took his hand in his, inspecting the injury, and gently rubbing it better “Come on, stand up! But this time try not to concentrate in the impulse, but rather in the landing. It’s just a double, there’s no need to toe so hard. It makes you lose your balance” 

“You want me to try again?” 

“Of course, young man!” He insisted, helping him stand up again, and kissing the sore spot in his hand “I believe in you” 

Could someone please arrest that man?? For like…Yuuri wasn’t really sure what kind of crime was that…but it had to be illegal! 

“Stop doing that kind of stuff all of a sudden!” The problem wasn’t the kiss, actually, but the mortification it implied “I’ll try again, but please stop harassing me” 

“Harassing you?” Viktor chuckled, tempted by the other’s playful smile “Oh, boy! Tell me if you ever want me to stop”

Yuuri rolled his eyes, trying to skate his shame away, as he got ready to try the Salchow once again. He didn’t ask him to stop though. 

This time, when he jumped, he managed to almost nail it. But his hand touched the ice as he landed. 

“Ah! That was so close!” Viktor wanted to scream, as he saw just how close he had been “You almost did it!” 

“Agh, fuck!”

“Watch your mouth, dear” He mocked, watching him try again, but having the same lame results “…and your feet, you are landing too loosely” 

“How am I suppose to do it??” Yuuri was growing irate, not because of Viktor, but because of his own failure. He was a really self conscious person, needles to say, so although he was usually really patient and persistent, having a former professional skater watch him was a distressing experience. 

“Ok, first you need to calm down” Viktor demanded, approaching him, and grabbing him by the shoulders “Come on, breath in” the student obeyed, closing his eyes “Good boy! Now…” 

He kneeled, holding Yuuri’s foot, and molding its posture to his will. The other stared, kind of shook, but let him do as he pleased either way. Then, he felt the hand rising all the way to his thigh, and he had to swallow a complaint as he felt his knees begin to buckle from the mere embarrassment. 

“What are you doing??” It wasn’t supposed to be a whisper, but that’s exactly what it was. 

“Positioning your legs, for you to know how to land” He explained, really concentrated, yet not exactly on the technique “There. Do you see how you are supposed to land with the back outside side of the blade?” his coy victim nodded, gulping “You need to use more force from this muscle over here” He signaled, stroking his leg “Do you think you could do that?” 

Yuuri nodded, determinate and full of drive, feeling unholy shivers in the spots Viktor had touched. He blamed the ice, the obvious chill. The fingers had been warm and tight on his body and it was only logical he felt sensitive to the cold in contrast. He was definitely not turned on, totally not. 

He would have mocked Viktor. He would have insulted him on how he couldn’t keep his hands to himself and was, in fact, harassing him. He would have told him to stop, since his heart was fragile, and he couldn’t take any more jokes. He would have told him it was rude to put his heart in march for nothing. He would have told him so many things, if it wasn’t for the fact he actually landed the Salchow on his very next attempt. Perfectly. 

He stood still, as frozen as the ice beneath him, right in the same pose he had landed in. Right in the same pose Viktor had molded his body just some minutes ago. 

He turned to look at his improvised coach, eyes open wide, mouth agape and heart fluttering, a huge grin drawing on his face as soon as he saw that same expression of amazement drawn on the man’s face. And, just when he was about to chose a patch of ice to drop merrily dead, he saw Viktor opening his arms for him, wide, like the open gates of a paradise he was too ashamed to admit he wanted to trespass. 

Without thinking twice, his next jump was no Salchow nor Toe Loop, but a direct dive into Viktor’s arms. The other hugged him back, matching his screams, feeling happier than he did when he managed that jump himself. For a full minute they were a tangled mess of cheers and shouts, not even listening to each other, plainly voicing their thoughts and assuming the other had said the same. From the outside, it may have looked quite pathetic. From the inside, it was nothing but pure bliss. 

“You did it!” 

“I did it!” Yuuri jumped up and down, arms still around his coach’s neck, marking the ice under his feet with tiny little bumps “Oh my god, now I can put it into my choreography!” 

“You are working on a choreography?” Viktor asked, pulling away a bit to look at him in the eye, and seeing him nodding proudly “That’s wonderful! May I see it someday?” 

“Uhm, It’s not finished yet” He blushed, making his best not to break eye contact, but that man’s gaze was way too overwhelming “But once it’s done, it would be an honor to show you” 

Viktor’s heart did a quadruple flip inside his chest. 

“I’ll be waiting…” Who was the one blushing now?? “I see you really worked on your confidence” He smiled, unconsciously (totally consciously) stroking his shoulder “Remember when you couldn’t even dance in front of me?” 

Yuuri tried to laugh, he really did, but it was hard when he was looking at him that way, from such a close distance.

Viktor was beautiful, so outrageously beautiful. His eyes were so ridiculously blue, an inexistent concentration of the shade, so much bluer than the color itself, that he couldn’t help but wonder how the sky dared to call itself blue. Damn, it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair he kept all that beauty to himself, monopolized, whitening his teeth and sparkling his eyes. Unfair, so unfair, that his cheeks tinted that perfectly graduated blush of pink, so absurd, that his skin was soft even to the sight. He used to feel he had no right to stand next to such an individual, no right to breathe his very same air, nor even to look at him and taste that perfect look of his. He used to feel he didn’t deserve to exist at the same time as Viktor.

But right then, being just centimeters away, with his hands on his back, and such a fond, loving look in his eyes…he didn’t feel so out of place. He felt he belonged right there, between his arms, _stealing_ his air, and savoring every single feature of his pretty face. Right then, he felt unstoppable. 

However, as soon as he was about to absently voice his thoughts, he was interrupted by the clumsy opening of the Ice Castle’s door, and the appearance of a much amused Phichit. 

“My my, I think I came in the wrong moment” He cooed, smirking knowingly. 

“Uhm, no, it’s ok!” Yuuri immediately pushed away, inelegantly skating all the way to the rink’s exit, and leaving a very much breathless Viktor aside “Wait a minute, I need to take out my skates. I’ll be there with you in no second!” 

He quickly put on his shoes, with his hands still trembling, and looked for the front door’s keys to lock the Ice Castle for the day. Phichit hung around, patiently, rocking back and forth his heels with quite an impish look in his face. Yuuri waited until Viktor was done putting on all of his winter garment (which wasn’t much, since apparently he had no response to cold whatsoever), and they said goodbye, promising to see each other at school the next day. And, after releasing quite a stuffed breath, he turned to look for a place to eat with his friend. 

As they were walking down the street though, trying to avoid both the snow and the awkwardness, the silence was broken by the mischievous tone of Phichit’s voice:

_“Caaaaan you feeeel, the loooooove toniiiight!”_

“PHICHIT DON’T”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaa each chapter keeps getting longer, I'm so sorry XD  
> Please leave a comment, it makes me sososososososooooooo happy and it almost makes me feel good for wasting so many daily hours of my existence on this fic.   
> Love you all!


	7. The rules of partying

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT'S EXCUSE TIME, YAY!  
> Sorry for taking so long to update...I started classes last week and I don't have as much time to write. Plus, this chapter is ETERNAL HOLY SHIT. You said you didn't mind long chapters...well, I hope you are still up to that *smiles uncomfortably*
> 
> Anyways...this chapter is a bit different. The main point is to show how much Yuuri has grown and changed as an individual, independant from Viktor, because he's A STRONG SASSY MAN WHO NEEDS NO RUSSIAN BF (He's so in love though) Aaaaa the ship is so close to sailing guys, I'm sorry for the slow burn...but we are getting there!

“Have you thought about a career, yet?” 

Yuuri, who was working on his homework as the goody two shoes he was (or at least pretended to be), stopped writing mid-sentence to look at Viktor. They were at his office, his territory, his kingdom, and he was on his spinning, leather throne…he couldn’t escape the question. 

“Uh??” 

“You know…” The man was busy organizing some notes he took at his conversations with the students, so he didn’t really look at him as he talked. Maybe that’s why he didn’t notice the momentary panic “…what you plan to study once you finish school” 

Viktor had just pressed a finger on the ore. 

College was kind of like a…bedtime, scary story for the boy. And, just like any kid copes with scary stories, he hid under the covers and pretended he didn’t saw the shadows in the room. Like a blanket could save him forever, and like the blanket hadn’t stopped being wide enough to cover his toes quite a long time ago. 

So, just akin to any other problem, he dealt with it in his usual (not really effective) manner: he pushed it to the back of his mind. 

“Oh, ehm…I really didn’t think about it yet” He confessed, pretending he was still concentrated on his work, but he was kidding nobody.

“Well, you SHOULD start thinking about it…” Yuuri had the audacity to take his eyes out from his notebook and peek at the counselor’s expression instead. Huge mistake. He was now looking at him, with the classical Disappointed Look all rights reserved “It’s not that long till you graduate!” 

He gulped, with nothing to say on his defense. He knew, he knew he was right. He knew he should have started thinking about a career a long time ago. But it was the worst of duties for him, honestly, it involved a sense of acknowledgment of his own capacities that he didn’t really possess, and an ability to make decisions that had ceased to exist. 

“Uhm…I should go back to my class” He stated, quite a lame excuse, as he tried to grab his things quickly and escape “Thank you for helping me with my homework, I-”

“You are not going anywhere” Viktor grabbed his arm from across the table, pulling him back to his seat, and forcing him into quite an intimidating eye contact. Yuuri’s breath got stuck in his throat, as soon as he saw the classical, Nikiforov angry smile “Are you trying to avoid me, boy?” 

“I…I don’t, ehm…” His tongue kept tripping over his own words, with no concise idea to guide them, as his brain was about to short out “I’m sorry” 

As soon as Viktor came across with that bland, anguished look on his face, any resolve he could have had to nag him was suddenly nonexistent. Damn, why was he so damn weak?? 

“It’s ok, Yuuri” He sighed, changing the hard irate grip on his arm to a much gentle, almost caress-like one “Just remember what we said about avoiding your problems…I don’t want you to end up in the bar again”

“Oh, no! There’s no way I…!” Yuuri shook his head, trying to deny out loud what he couldn’t really deny to himself “I wouldn’t do that…not because of this” 

Viktor began to stroke his arm with his thumb, gently, making all the way down till he reached his hand. He had really warm hands, he noticed. And his hands should have been kind of cold, judging by the way the boy flinched to the contact. But he didn’t seem to mind. 

“Hey, choosing a career is always hard for everyone” He reassured “I can try to help you, if you wish. I’m the counselor after all! 

“Help me?” Yuuri grimaced, making a solidary attempt on warming the other’s hands “How can you help me with this?” 

That was a really good question.

Because Viktor had no idea. 

“Uhm…we can discuss the matter!” He tried, he wholeheartedly tried “Maybe that will help you clear your thoughts and find an answer”

“I guess…” There was a petty shrug. 

“Tell me, haven’t you thought about anything related to dancing?” 

Yuuri shook his head, and looking at their intertwined hands on the table. 

“Hmm, not really” He said, insecure “Dancing is more like a hobby to me, I can’t really think of it as a job” 

“I see…” Viktor took a hand to his own chin, the one gesture he seemed to use as a deep thinking inducer, or at least to make everyone around believe he could actually concentrate on something “What is the LEAST thing you would want to work on, then?” 

“What?” 

“I remember that when I was in high school, all I knew was that I didn’t want to work as a businessman, just like my father did. And that kind of helped me start discarding options until I reached my answer” 

Yuuri hummed, realizing it was actually quite a logical procedure (surprisingly), and thinking for an answer himself.

“I wouldn’t like to do administrative work like my parents do at the hotel, to be honest; it’s not really my thing. Plus, I’m used to see just how much time it takes them to take care of everything and that’s not the lifestyle I would like” 

“Good! That’s a start!” Viktor cheered, shaking his hand a bit “What else?” 

“Medicine sounds like a really bad option, really, since I get kind of upset around sick people” Of course he did…he had such a sensitive, cute heart! He was too pure for medicine “And I guess numbers are not really my thing, either?”

“What about communications?” 

He chortled. 

“Me? Talking? Using words??? I think you are recruiting the wrong guy” 

Viktor followed the train of laughter, letting go of his hands to take a notepad and write down what he had said so far.

“True, true” He nodded, hands busy taking record “It’s not really a career for you”

“Hmm, what else can I say?” 

“I think that’s enough!” Viktor smiled, showing the results of his writing, and some messy arrows he had added to try to make it clearer (even though it looked like some preschool sad drawing) “See? Everything leads that you may want to study something from the humanistic side. Maybe not communications, since you are still an awkward ball of shyness, but there are other careers out there that may do!” 

He looked at Yuuri, patiently, waiting for his engines to finish process the information, and corroborate if what he had just said had been something smart or outright stupidity. He was using his own experience to try helping him out, which really wasn’t what a normal counselor would do, but having reached this point no one really expected Viktor to do what a normal counselor would. 

“I think you may be right” Wait…really?? “I can’t think of any specific option right now, though” 

“That’s ok!” He kept on his cheery attitude, to keep Yuuri calm, and to keep calm himself “You did a huge advance today! It’s way better than nothing” 

“Yeah…I guess” He smiled to himself, feeling some sense of accomplishment, for daring to take a peek at such a dreading topic he had been avoiding for months. He hadn’t fully dived in just yet, but at least he had a foot testing the waters “Thank you so much” 

“You’re welcome”

There was a minute of silence, in which Yuuri continued with his work, and the alleged counselor was back to rereading his notes about the students. None of them wanted to comment on the fact it was completely unnecessary for them to be together right then, that they were doing totally separate tasks, and that Yuuri wasn’t truly asking for help, really. They were so used to that routine, being together at that office, solving the guy’s homework, that it took them a while to realize he was actually getting quite better grades, and that maybe he didn’t need assistance anymore. However, none dared to comment on the fact. And they stood there, mute, enjoying each other’s company, until Viktor dared to break the silence: 

“You would be a great stripper though”

“VIKTOR WHAT THE FUCK”

“PHICHIT WHAT THE FUCK” 

Apparently, that was a day in which all of Yuuri’s acquaintances were quite a bit messed up. 

“Come on, Yuuri! Don’t pop my balloon” His friend insisted, grabbing his arm and shaking it as they walked through the crowded hallways “It’ll be fun! Don’t leave me alone!” 

“I don’t think so, Phichit. Me? At a party!?” He complaint, trying to get loose from the other’s hold, but those hands were kind of brawny already from typing all day “Plus, wasn’t your brother an asshole?? Why does he let you stay?” 

“Because he doesn’t want me to tell mom once she comes back from her trip” There was a playful, mischievous grin on his face, one of those only the ones with siblings would understand “I have him eating from the palm of my hand” 

“You are both assholes then” Yuuri laughed, opening his locker, and hiding Phichit’s disappointed face with the door. 

“Come on!” The other insisted, popping his head from behind “What are you afraid of? Alcohol?” 

Oh, the irony.

“People” Both of them giggled at the comment “Isn’t Arthit like 21 years old? It will be full of college students! And I’m like the, most awkward person in the history of awkwardness” 

“Dude, you’ll be in college literally next year” Why did everyone insist on reminding him that? “I’m not really a fan of parties either, but I just want to try! And to be honest I don’t want to be left alone…it may get wild” 

Yuuri bit his lower lip and shook his head to himself, closing the locker’s door with his books in hand, and smiling at Phichit with all the possible levels of sarcasm. 

“Can’t you take Guang-Hong and Leo?” 

“I will! But they are too pure for this world, let alone for one of my brother’s parties. I want someone who will listen and appreciate my side-comments and clever observations” he stated, making the other roll his eyes in disbelief “You can take more people if you want!” 

“Phichit, you are aware I have as many friends as JJ has neurons” Yuuri began walking to his class, absentmindedly, not really paying attention to the conversation anymore.

“Uhm, actually, I was talking about Viktor” 

Yuuri stopped middle-track, turning his head to look at a much oblivious Phichit, who was in no way aware of what he had just said. 

“You are not serious right now” 

“I am”

He continued walking, ignoring the other, unable to believe what he was hearing. It was barely 10 AM and he had already filled his madness tolerance to the brim. He needed to give his brain a rest and, amazingly, math sounded more comforting and logical than a conversation with Phichit right then.

“You are nuts” 

“I am not! Viktor is young! I bet he still goes to college parties!” Did that boy ever give up??” 

“He’s the damn counselor”

“He’s basically your boyfriend!” 

Did he even realize they were still in public?? Like, at the middle of the school’s hallways????

“Go to your class, stupid” He laughed, as he saw the other kept following him around like a buzzing fly. 

“Not until you tell me you are coming to the party!” 

“Phichit…” 

“Ok, you don’t have to take Viktor…you don’t even have to call it a party! What if it’s a…friendly reunion?” Yuuri didn’t even answer this time “Yuuri? Yuuri! I’m talking to you! _Hello_??” 

_“It’s me”_

“What?” 

_“I was wondering if after all these years you'd like to meet”_ Yuuri started singing to ignore him, unable to hit the notes because he was laughing so hard at Phichit’s face, and quickening his pace as he saw he was still following him _“To go over everything_

“DON’T IGNORE ME WITH ADELE RIGHT NOW!” 

_“They say that time's supposed to heal ya_  
_But I ain't done much healing”_

“YUURI” 

_“Hello, can you hear me?_  
_I'm in California dreaming about who we used to be”_

“YUURI I’M GONNA UNFRIEND YOU FROM REAL LIFE”

_When we were younger and free_  
_I've forgotten how it felt before the world fell at our feet_

“YUURI KATSUKI I’M GOING TO FIND YOU, I KNOW WHERE YOU LIVE” He heard him from the distance, as he had managed to lose him between the hallway’s usual crowd “COME TO MY PARTY!!!” 

Yuuri started giggling to himself, still humming the song, since it was actually a guilty pleasure of his. There was a funny sensation at the pit of his stomach, some sort of absurd tickles he wasn’t really able to explain. He was happy. 

Happy he had been invited to a party (even though he still wasn’t sure about going), happy he had a friend like Phichit around (he didn’t really mind how much of a dork he was), and just happy in general. Why? He didn’t know, it didn’t happen often, so he really couldn’t sort it out much. In fact, it was the first time he felt unexplainably happy in a rather long time. 

And it was, apparently, really satisfying. 

However, the poetic happy tickles didn’t last much, as distraction made him ran onto a much taller body.

“Sorry, I didn’t see you there, I-”

“Oh, look at this! It’s dancer boy!” Fuck. Not him, anyone but him. “How has my favorite faggot been?” 

Emile was bad, Michele was worst, but nothing could compare to the impotence Yuuri felt whenever he was confronted by JJ Leroy. It wasn’t a matter of violence, nor the aggression with which he talked. No, it was different. 

There was some kind of unspoken hierarchy at school no one really mentioned but no one could deny either. It wasn’t a mere teenage joke or triviality, but a serious rank everyone was forced into; and, whoever tried to escape, did nothing but confirm their place. 

It sounds stupid, but go ahead and try to contradict it. Try to convince Yuuri the cheerleaders weren’t royalty, try to tell him minorities didn’t need to pay silent homage to the loudest extroverts. He had accepted his place as the peasant a long time ago already; he knew who he should hide from, and who he had no right to even look at in the eye. Shy, plain people had no voice in that kingdom, and felt so small, diminutive, in comparison to the giant egos.

And next to JJ, ultimate lord of charisma and self-confidence, Yuuri was just tiny, bothersome bug.

“I’m sorry, JJ. I should probably go, I have class in a while and-”

“Not so fast!” Always with that big, foolish smile of his, JJ grabbed his scarf and pulled him back into the unwanted conversation, choking him a little in the process “I’m talking to you!” 

“S-sorry”

“Sorry? That’s all you can say?” People were beginning to stare, yet never intervening of course, since they were all aware of the hierarchy. They were all aware JJ had the right to push someone like him around, almost as natural as animals’ food chains “People like you piss me off” 

Yuuri swallowed, walking backwards, escaping the huge piece of character now looming over him. He couldn’t answer, he couldn’t stop the giant not so giant hands now pushing him backwards, making him crash against the lockers, cornering him. He couldn’t escape, he couldn’t move. 

He couldn’t avoid the chain of command.

“Why don’t you answer?? You think you are so great??” No, on the contrary. He felt so minor right then. An JJ knew it, but he needed to keep on the display. After all, he couldn’t risk his status “Speak, dancer boy” 

“Go away” He sadly attempted, trying to escape his hold, but being pushed against the lockers once again. 

“Meh, I don’t want to” Everyone around was already too immerse on the scene, macabrely pleased, feeling that odd sensation of satisfactory familiarity you get when things work according to the system. Yuuri knew more than anyone what came next, what the public was waiting for, and he didn’t like it one bit “What are you gonna do about it? Dance?” 

And, just when he had closed his eyes and waited fot the worst, it was another hostile, scratchy shout what he heard:

“OI, YOU FUCKIN ASSWIPE, GO FIGHT SOMONE YOUR FUCKIN SIZE”

That voice…that overuse of the F word…could it be??

“Huh?? Someone my size??” JJ scowled, looking down to a much rabid Yurio “If that were the rules, you can go fight a cockroach then, you shrimp” 

“Tell that to your dick, moron!” 

Yuuri didn’t know what happened, but suddenly salvation had come in a blur like an animal print typhoon, and he had been pushed back to the place of a spectator at someone else’s duel. 

The blonde punk was standing right in front of him, pushing JJ behind, ready to jump and gouge his eyes out at any second.

“Who do you think you are, you lady?” The bully of course wasn’t holding back, either, looking kind of amused about being confronted by a tiny fifteen year-old “They say barking dog does not bite” 

“I don’t bite, but I will punch you in your fucking ugly face if you keep being such an asshole!” Yurio grabbed Yuuri by the wrist and walked away from the social coliseum “Goodbye, imbecile!” 

Had he, by any chance…just broken the hierarchy? 

Had that ridiculously angry, courageous first year just defied the irrefutable king? 

How was it possible!? Now that he thought about it…Where did Yurio even fit inside that metaphoric, not so fantasy kingdom? Was he a loser? Was he a champ? Or had he simply find a way of escaping etiquettes, and hide from the judging, neighbor eye? 

“What? Leaving so early?” JJ insisted, refusing to lose a fight. Since, the higher the rank, the thinner the ice “Are you scared or what?” 

“Sorry, shithead!” Yurio shouted, turning round the corner “I’m afraid of short dicks being contagious!” 

The public wave of laughter shared by every single witness, followed by JJ’s embarrassment and inevitable rage, was what gave both Yuri’s the needed time to run away. 

Much for their amusement, no one chased after them. No one followed the unspoken rule of attacking the marginal, the underground, to tell them to surrender and let the higher ranks step on them. Nothing was working like it was supposed to. And it was in that same moment, with his hero dragging him through the hallways and far from the mess, head up, surrounded by that victory halo, so small and yet so grand, so transgressing, so nobody…that Yuuri suddenly understood what the key to break the system was: Not giving a fuck. 

“Go to your fuckin class” Yurio ordered, suddenly letting go of his arm, and almost sending him flying by mere inertia “And be more careful next time, you can’t just mess with people like Jean-Yuck Leroy” 

“I didn’t mess with him, he just…” He realized he was talking to the air, as the other boy had turned around and marched away already “Yurio, wait!” 

“What do you want now??” 

“To thank you” 

Being for the slightest and shortest of moments, the guy changed his forever-salty expression, and looked actually bug-eyed. Surprising someone like him was a rather huge merit, honestly, a grimace as solid as that punk’s was something hard to mold! Let alone into such a cute, innocent expression of abashment. 

“Consider it a payoff…for going to the arts club with me the other day….you fucker.” 

Yuuri was kind of getting the hang of all this Yurio Dictionary thingy. Fucker probably meant friend…or maybe fucker meant fucker. But the point was he was trying to get closer, he may have been far from opening up or calling him his buddy yet, but it was definitely a progress. 

Yurio awakened something odd in him, something protective, maybe motherly even. It sounded ridiculous, he knew it did, but whenever he looked at him in the eye he couldn’t help his gut to twitch on just how lonely and needy he seemed. He was a strong guy, of course, but no one is strong enough to carry the weight of a lifetime on their own. Yuuri still wasn’t sure of how his family situation was overall, and he really didn’t know him well enough to make assumptions about his lack of a social life. But that haggard expression on his face was no assumption. Yurio was lonesome and discomfited just like himself. Only that, instead of alcohol and clubbing, he had picked on other bad habits.

“Hey, Yurio, one more thing…” He called out, unthinkingly, before the other boy could attempt walking away “My friend Phichit’s brother is throwing a party this Friday, and I was told to maybe invite someone to go with me and-”

“I’m not going to a stupid party” 

Yuuri moped, looking at him, but remembered the other had no sense of guilt whatsoever and wasn’t going to fall for the puppy dog eyes. He wasn’t Viktor. 

“Why not?” 

“Because it’s stupid as fuck!” Yurio snorted, disgusted by the mere idea. There was something else though, Yuuri could tell, some other thing that had him all fretful and edgy. Young guys were so predictably unpredictable “And I don’t fucking know anyone! Do you want to kill me of boredom or something!?” 

Boredom? Don’t you mean awkwardness? 

Yuuri had to bite a smile, catch it before it was too late, and before Yurio would notice how he could read him like a children’s book. It was understandable, he knew more than anyone what it was like to feel your presence was an existential placebo for everyone around. But parties were supposed to be places to get to know other people, right? (Were they? he didn’t know, he had never been to any himself). And what that angry, cranky kid needed right then, was to make some friends. 

“I was thinking maybe you could invite someone yourself…Tell me, is there someone you would like to invite?” 

Yurio’s eyes didn’t seem to be very obedient that day, since they insolently drifted all the way to a very much distracted Otabek at the other end of the hallway, oblivious, immerse in an old poetry book. Of course, as son as he noticed what his damn, imprudent eyes had done, he retracted them immediately, almost panicky, fearing Yuuri could understand the implication…but it was too late. He was already throwing glances from one boy to another, cooking some delicious conclusions, and smiling as wide and impish as the Cheshire cat. 

“Oh?? You want to invite that guy?” He tried to keep a serious tone, he really did, but thrill was stronger than him “Do you like him?” 

Yurio smacked the back of his head.

“Of course not, you retarded piece of shit” He snapped, loud enough to blow the Three Little Pigs houses down “I don’t even know him! We just talked once…” 

“And?? If you invite him to the party you can get to know him” He almost ducks to dodge the death glance “Maybe he’s cool” 

“He is cool” Yurio breathed out, surrendering “And I can’t invite someone so cool to a party as stupid as…” 

“It’s a college party, I bet he’ll feel at least curious” Yuuri shrugged “You can always try”

There was a hopeful minute of reflective silence.

“He’s not going, and I ain’t either” 

“No! Come on!” Was he having a déjà vu? Or was he slowly turning into Phichit? “Why not??” 

“I don’t want to invite him! It would be creepy as fuck!” 

“Is that it? That’s the problem??” It was kind of hypocrite from him to complain about shyness, frankly, but there was no way he was going to admit that “He’s a second year, right? My friend is a second year too! He can invite him for you!”

“You are pissing me off” 

“I know, and I’m sorry. But I really think you should come” He insisted, ignoring the aggressive roll of his eyes, and staring much deeper instead “Please”

Yurio sighed, hiding his upset gaze on the floor for a second, before he finally got the will to look at the other in the eye. 

“If I say yes, then would you stop fucking bothering me?”

“Of course”

“Deal then” He said, turning around to walk away with his hands in his pockerts, having had much embarrassment and social interactions for one day “Just don’t fucking talk to me until then”

“Ok, ok” Yuuri laughed, waving at him “See you around, Yurio. Thank you for everything!” 

“Fuck you”

He liked to think he meant “you are welcome”.

“Viktor?” 

As soon as Viktor heard the phone ringing and saw the caller’s ID, he feared for the worst. War flashbacks about that night at The Madmen Cage, with Yuuri being so awfully sick and upset, weren’t late to knock on his worry. 

But something about that day felt different, somehow, starting by the fact his voice didn’t sound as wrecked as that night’s. In fact, it sounded almost entirely composed, if it weren’t by the permanent tinge of anxiousness that seemed to characterize it. And it was barely 5 PM…the kid couldn’t be out there drinking at plain evening, right?? At least he hoped so. 

“Yuuri, boy, what’s going on? It’s everything alright?” He asked, not really liking the sound of that clogged breath. 

“Viktor, how does one…party?” 

Uh??

“What?” He asked, checking the caller’s ID again as if he didn’t recognize that voice even at its silences “Party? I don’t understand” 

He heard the distinctive creak of a bouncing mattress, and deduced the boy had just thrown himself at bed. At least he was at home, he thought. That meant he was not in danger. 

What was he so troubled about, then? 

“Phichit’s brother, Arthit…remember I told you about him? Well, he’s throwing a party tonight and I’m invited, but I’ve never been to a party! And it’s a college party, and there’ll be alcohol, and also Phichit is there! I can’t drink in front of Phichit! But I HAVE to go because I somewhat, don’t ask me how, convinced Yurio of going and now I need to be there too and I swear I have no idea of like…how do I dress?? How many people will be in there?? What if they think my glasses are stupid?? Do I use my contact lenses?? And what about-”

“Yuuri, breathe” Viktor chuckled, relaxing, sitting down on the sofa and asking Makkachin to join him “College parties are literally a zoo, you can find anything, from hippies to girls dressed like quincieanieras. You don’t have to worry about looks, and they’ll be all too drunk to even register if you say something stupid, so that’s a plus” 

Yuuri bit his lip, trying to find the proper words (and the proper courage) to express his true qualms out loud. He clenched the phone, ashamed, actually grateful he wasn’t speaking face to face, since he knew he wouldn’t have been able to look at him in the eye as he asked what followed:

“And what if I…lose the hang of my drinking?” 

There was a moment of muteness, in which he was factually scared the other could listen to his heartbeat through the call. Silence had that awful, maddening witchcraft of stretching seconds longer, turning them into minutes, and make each breath feel like an interminable experience. Was it a product of anxiety’s black magic? Or was he plainly a coward? Maybe both, maybe none. Maybe he just cared way too much about his counselor’s opinion on him. 

The purring noise of the call’s interference was suddenly interrupted by the click of a tongue. So was Yuuri’s breathing. 

“Are you afraid of getting drunk in front of your friends?” 

Yuuri nodded, but then he realized the other couldn’t see him through the phone, and decided to hum positively instead.

“Yeah” 

Viktor leaned back on the sofa, caressing the soft fur of his sleeping dog, as if he could rake an answer out of it. He could take the simple way out, he could tell him the obvious, and in basic terms order “don’t drink, then” as the evident, legit answer to the question. He could make it so easy, so effortless, so efficiently…and yet, he kept his mouth shut. 

On one hand, he knew how alcoholisms and its traps worked. He knew that, for someone like Yuuri, a college party could feel like a mined field, filled to the brim with chances, excuses and even prices for drinking. He knew drinking games were a thing, he knew booze was always tastier when served and free, and he knew (from his own experience) just how difficult it was to leave the house without tumbling at the porch afterwards. As a supposed counselor, he knew it wasn’t safe.

But as someone who knew Yuuri and wholeheartedly cared about him, he was certain the boy needed that party. 

Yuuri needed to get lose a bit, to see Phichit and his other friends in another ambit, generate a bond. And, although he was sure the Counseling for Dummies book said nothing alike this, having some drinks with someone was a nice way of connecting. Without getting too drunk, of course, just the right amount to feel you are experiencing something together, to get into that silly, tipsy euphoria. Kids weren’t as addicted to alcohol as they were to prohibitions. Viktor could be quite an expert on the matter, and with no psychology title. If he told Yuuri alcohol was completely forbidden and that he couldn’t even taste a drop, then it would turn into an all or nothing situation; in which the boy would sit in silence during the entire party, or transgress the rule completely and get absolutely wasted, without considering the existence of an in-between. 

Plus…he was the counselor! Whatever he said right then would be automatically written down as some kind of law, and that’s the least thing he wanted to do. He wanted him to feel free. Free from any restriction, and free from his own compulsion. 

“You know what? I think I’m not suitable to help you with this” He said, outlining a smile, and imagining that adorable face of confusion he was certain the other was doing “But I think I know someone who may do” 

“Who?” Yuuri was puzzled, used to Viktor always wanting to have the last word and acting like a know-it-all. 

“Your sister” 

Correction, NOW he was puzzled. 

“Mari??” He asked, arching a brow, the oddness of asking her already breathing at his neck “Why Mari??” 

“Look, Yuuri, I don’t think you are an AA worth alcoholic. You are just going through a hard time, and you don’t need someone to boss you around and tell you beer is poisonous or something” He explained, making an attempt not to sound unprofessional, but obviously failing “I think you need to take it easy, and your sister is a young woman, right? I’m sure she’d been to lots of parties…And, to be honest, I was quite an irresponsible drinker myself….ok, I still am. Let’s just say I don’t have the answer for a sober night” 

Yuuri laughed at his honesty, feeling a bit less of a freak now that he knew someone as successful as Viktor shared his same issues. Maybe he wasn’t that much of a basket case, after all.

“I would love to hear some drunken Viktor stories sometime” He mocked, trying to imagine it himself but unsure of what to expect, honestly. 

“Oh boy, you have no idea what you have just signed in for” The man giggled too, because he loved it when Yuuri got all assertive and teasing, and because he immediately remembered some glorious drunken anecdotes “Maybe we can have some coffee together sometime and share some embarrassing stories” 

Yuuri’s heart was still jumpy, but now because of totally different reason.

“Sounds like a plan” He said, glad the other couldn’t see just how flattered and gleeful the offer got him, since he was quite sure he looked like a fool “I’m gonna go talk with Mari now” 

“Good! Go ahead” Actually, he wouldn’t have felt too embarrassed, since Viktor looked fairly idiotic himself “Call me if you need anything! See you” 

“See you, thanks!” 

Yuuri hung up the phone and gave a long, determinate breath. 

Ok, he could do this. 

Mari was really cool, she maybe wouldn’t mind giving him one or two tips, right? He was actually starting to get quite keyed up about the party, he had literally no idea what he was up against, and that kind of made it exciting. His innate anxiety always made him eye the unknown mistrustfully, stay one step aside, and limited him to wonder how the thrill felt like. But right then, as he run down the stairs and towards the living room, hell, he was hype as fuck. 

“Mari!” He exclaimed, his exhilaration almost costing him a fall down the stairs, as he saw his sister calmly texting on the sofa “I need to ask you something!”

The entirety of the afternoon was spent with Mari dragging him all around the house, trying different clothes and hairstyles on him, and giving him tips on how to deal with drunken college students. There were many anecdotes as examples as well, too, and Yuuri never thought he’d have to hear such things coming from his own sister. She also gave him some flirting tips, which was awkward, especially when she showed him…The Drawer. 

“WHY DO YOU HAVE SO MANY OF THESE?” He screamed, as red as the package of the strawberry flavored condom he was currently holding “MARI WHAT THE HELL” 

“What?? You thought I never hooked up??” She arched a brow, kind of offended, stuffing some packages into her brother’s pocket and closing The Drawer “I don’t care if you are gay, you need to use them too! I want no AIDS in this house!” 

Yuuri was going to kill Viktor for putting him in that situation. 

“This is so embarrassing” He complained, actually keeping the condoms “How are you even so chill about this?” 

“You are so awkward you are cute” She laughed, getting into his room and looking through his wardrobe, not really stressed about keeping an order as she threw everything aimlessly onto the floor “And you’ll look even more cute once I find you an outfit”

Yuuri tried to catch everything she threw into the air, but it was hard when he only had two hands and sweaters kept flying around like a downpour. 

“But I don’t want to look cute” He said, between the dozen of wrinkled shirts he was currently holding in his arms “I want to look…cool, I guess” 

Mari stopped the clothing shower, grabbing one single piece and staring at it thoroughly, outlining a pleased smirk. 

“And cool you’ll be, baby bro” She grinned, separating a shirt from the mess, and continuing to look at the pants sections “You’ll be something like, the new Danny Zuko” 

Yuuri snorted. 

“I said cool, not ridiculously retro” He rolled his eyes, setting the pile of clothes aside, so that he could sit on the bed and check his sister wasn’t going to dress him like some star from a 70’s movie.

“Are you one to talk?” Mari mocked “I’ve seen you gel your hair, bro. You have no right to shame the Danny Zuko look” 

“Excuse me??” He choked a snicker, acting offended “Are you comparing my hairstyle to John Travolta??” 

“The hair, the dancing…I think I’m about to reach a conclusion” She was doing a good job at hiding her laughter, until her brother threw her a pillow in the back of the head with enviable accuracy, and she couldn’t help but chuckling as she flung it back “Hey! Do not start a war you won’t be able to cope with” 

Yuuri giggled merrily, grabbing the clothes Mari handed him and taking a look. He shrugged and nodded, approvingly, but it wasn’t really what he would have picked himself. The shirt still had the label on, since he never really used it, and the jeans were not the most comfortable thing ever but well, it would do. He wanted to give his sister the joy of picking his clothes, since she looked so excited somehow. 

For a fragment of second, he wondered if this was what Viktor really wanted. 

Had he, on purpose, given him an excuse to spend some time with his sister? Had it all been a plan? Or was the fact he was extremely content right then just other of his counselor’s lucky accidents? He didn’t know, but as he stared at Mari trying on his Eros shirt and pretending to dance, he decided he didn’t really care. 

He was happy, and that was all. 

“Hey, Mari…” He mumbled after a while, not really sure of how to phrase the question, but voicing his attempts anyways “How do you…survive a party?” 

She leaned on the doorframe, taking out a box of cigarettes from her pocket, and looking like the living image of the wildest raves survivor. She was so cool, Yuuri thought, so badass. If there was someone in this planet who could teach him how to get through that party like a champ, it was definitely his sister. 

“Do you want some tips for beginners?” She asked, cigarette in mouth, and naughty, knowing look in her eyes “Write this down, kid…”

_**MARI’S SURVIVAL GUIDE FOR PARTIES**  
Basic rules for an unforgettable night_

_**1) DON’T ARRIVE TOO EARLY/ TOO LATE**  
If you arrive early, everyone will be silent and completely sober, and it’ll feel like walking into a funeral. On the contrary, if you arrive way too late, everyone will be too wasted already and you’ll feel like you are watching a National Geographic documentary on the stupidest of species: drunkard human beings. It’s essential to arrive at the right moment, when there are already enough people in the house to be considered a proper party, but not enough to call the police. _

 

Yuuri knocked on the Chulanont residence’s door at exactly 11:45 PM. Phichit had told him to be there around eleven, but Mari knew better, and warned him to keep away from that house until there were at least five cars parked in front. She seemed to be great with calculations, since by the time he reached the front porch, the walls were already humming the beat of a popular techno song and echoing the chatting and the chortling from several teenagers, indicating the party was already on. 

He was nervous, of course he was. He kept mouthing one by one the rules his sister had made him memorize, and looking at the door handle with such intensity one would think he was trying telekinesis. What if it was Arthit who welcomed him? He had never seen him in person, but judging by some pictures he saw at his friend’s locker, he was a taller, tougher version of his sibling (and without the sharpie moustache his younger brother had kindly drew on the picture’s face, obviously), but he still had that plump, characteristic child-like face of the family. Like, he was all built, manly and all but, there was _something_ on his face that made him look so pure, something in his eyes maybe. He kind of looked like Franklin the Turtle somehow…should he mention that? Probably not. 

Fortunately, the one to open the door for him was no one but Phichit, who kind of didn’t recognize him at first, and spent about ten seconds of itchy silence scanning him form head to toes. Which, inevitably, had Yuuri feeling kind of uncomfortable. 

“What??” He asked, thinking maybe Mari hadn’t been that efficient and choosing his clothing.

Phichit finished ogling him, finally daring to look at him in the eye, with his expression as serious as if he were stating on a jury.

“You look hot” He declared, nodding in approval. 

Yuuri blushed. looking at his own clothes. suddenly forgetting about having gotten dressed, and wanting to check he wasn’t naked just in case. 

_**2) DRESS CASUALLY**  
If you dress way too fancy, you’ll call everyone’s attention in a bad way. They’ll think you are pretentious, or that probably it’s your first party and you care too much. But, on the other hand, it must be clothes that highlights your better features. Like, you should pretend you didn’t give a shit about what you put on, but you really have to give a shit. Your look must be cool yet flirtatious all at the same time. The key is for your outfit to say “Hey I’m ready to chill and drink some beers, also I have no gag reflex” _

Mari had selected a grey, plain t-shirt and a short sleeved, squared shirt for him to use unbuttoned on top. His jeans were quite ordinary, honestly, not to mention old. But apparently neglected was the new new, and it made him look cool, somehow. He had chosen to use contact lenses instead of his usual glasses, and he had pushed his hair back like he did whenever he went to the bar.

Phichit was looking fairly fine too, with his hair combed and a dark red shirt. It kind of made him a bit older to the eye, which was fine, considering he had a natural baby-face. 

“Thanks” He shrugged, not really good at handing compliments “You look hot too” 

Oh no. Did he really say that?? 

It was fine for his friend to say it…I mean, he was straight! It was obviously a joke…what if he thought he was flirting with him now?? What if he got offended?? Fuck, he was such an idiot! He knew he would fuck up, he knew he shouldn’t have come. Should he say it was a joke? Should he say sorry?? Should he ask him for a paper bag to hyperventilate in???

Yet, before he could start properly panicking, Phichit took a finger to his own mouth and then to his shoulder, doing a sizzling noise and laughing. 

“Thank you!” He said, dramatically leaning on the door and fanning his face, as if he couldn’t handle the hotness “Come in! Guang-Hong, Leo and your other friend are already there!” 

Other friend?...Yurio! So he really did come! 

Excitedly, he walked pass Phichit and into the house, only to be amused by his lack of amusement. There were little to none times in his life, in which his expectations had been so creepily similar to the real thing. He blamed all the chick flicks, in his defense. That living room was the furnished incarnate of the college party stereotype. Low lighting, loud music, a table with food, some cheap Wal-Mart color lenses, and even those red cups. Yes, you know which red cups. Everyone has seen the red cups. People were spread everywhere, chatting in small groups or slightly moving to the music, and although there was no one properly dancing yet, there was already some randy couple making out on the sofa.

Yuuri was debating if he should give them one of the strawberry condoms. He wasn’t planning on using them, anyways. 

“The alcohol is in the kitchen…I kind of chickened and haven’t tried it yet” Phichit scratched the back of his neck, embarrassed, and it was somehow adorable “I don’t know if you want any”

He was about to blurt out a yes, choke himself with a no, maybe spit some kind of mixture between both…but then he remembered Mari’s advise on the matter.

_**3) DO NOT DRINK BEFORE EATING**  
Alcohol + an empty stomach= disaster. You’ll get drunken way faster, and probably end up throwing up like a total wreck. So, if you value your dignity and your stomach acids, eat before you drink anything. _

“Maybe later” He said, surprisingly composed, examining the crowded room “Where is Arthit?” 

“Arthit?” Phichit looked around, trying to look above the sea of stylish heads all across his lounge, until he spotted his objective and pointed at him with the shamelessness of a younger sibling “There he is, next to the speakers” 

It was amazing, but somehow he looked even more like Franklin the Turtle in person. 

Breathing in and gathering courage, he approached the older man (who was already a bit tipsy) and performed the manliest manly greeting for manly men that Mari had taught him to do just some hours ago. With a neutral, uninterested look on his face, he just voiced a “Sup, man. Cool party” and gave him the oh so manly high five and fist bump, trying to gather as much testosterone as possible in the palm of his hand.

_**4) GREET THE HOUSE OWNER**  
The house owner at a party is always some kind of divine entity. People who know him and greet him are like the saints of that savage religion, and are seen great by some kind of social inertia. The house owner won’t mind, as it’s a sign of prestige and power to be known and recognized by other commoners, and will appreciate the greeting or maybe even pretend to know you. _

Non surprisingly, Mari had been right again. 

Arthit responded to the salute enthusiastically, smirking pleasingly and enjoying the over-stimulation of his attention.

Of course, when Phichit questioned what had been that all about, he responded it was a mere act of courtesy, and changed the topic by asking where the others were. 

Leo and Guang-Hong were chatting at the food table, laughing at incomprehensible internal jokes between the crumbs of the potato chips they kept stuffing into their mouths. There was just something so unfitting about seeing them there, being their childish, pure usual selves. They were just first years…what were they doing in that party?? It felt so wrong to see them there… like sprinkling sugar onto a chili. 

“Oi! Piggy!” Ah, there it was, now he felt at home “I’m bored and I blame the fuck out of you” 

“Yurio!” He smiled, unironically “You are here!” 

“Yeah, unfortunately, you shithead” Sometimes it was hard to tell when he was truly angry, or if the saltiness was just product his usual potty mouth and common bad temper. Or maybe he was always angry, who knows. Yuuri really didn’t have time to ask himself that question right then “I just remembered I hate people, and I hate you. I’m leaving” 

“So early? But I just arrived!” 

“That’s the problem” He hissed, pushing some girls on high heels who had the audacity of being taller than him “Goodbye, you fucking piece of pig’s…” 

Before he could find the most offensive synonym for the word dump, the cranky punk crashed into what seemed to be the paranormal manifestation of a leathered chest. Where the fuck had that guy come from?? Who the fuck did he think he was to just…appear out of no fucking no where?? How he DARE have a cooler jacket than his?? 

And, just when he was about to go for his jugular, he realized he actually recognized that jacket…and those so cool boots…and the keys for that Yamaha. And he knew that if he looked upwards, he would actually recognize that fashionable hairstyle, too. But he was currently dealing with some severe case of heavy eyes, apparently, of those that were so hard to lift from the ground. Was embarrassment what made them so weighty? Maybe. 

“Oh, Yuri. I didn’t see you there”

“Otabek! What are you doing here??” Yurio took a stem back, composing himself, trying to rewind his brain and remember what he was trying to do right before the collision. Oh, right. He had been trying to escape 

“I got invited too” There it was, the cool guy smile “Do you want to go check out what music they have?” 

Yurio was too shook to even understand what he was talking about, until he saw him pointing at the shelf with about a thousand CD cases. 

“Uh, yeah sure, why not” Damn, he was never going to be able to pull off the indifference “I bet they have the shittiest of tastes”

He was totally aware of Phichit’s presence right then, but he wasn’t in the mood to feel bad about other people’s egos at the moment. 

As Otabek walked out of the main hall and into the living room, Yurio got the chance to approach a sassy Yuuri and his giggling friend, who were staring at the scene with crossed arms and knowing smirks. 

“How did you get him to come??” He asked them, still in daze, eying the man now inspecting the CDs in the distance. 

They both smiled, sharing a complicit look, and giving the little punk a synchronized pat in the back.

“We told him you were coming” 

After the poor boy got over the abashment and managed to drain the blush out from his cheeks, he spent the following hour discussing music with Otabek. They had quite a similar taste, in fact, except for the detail the oh so cool lord of coolness admitted he listened to Beethoven regularly. This was, of course, the foot for plenty of mockery. Because there was no way he could picture someone with that hairstyle and that leather jacket, on a motorbike listening to Symphony No.9. 

He also found out the guy was sometimes a DJ on his free time, nothing professional, just a little hobby. But enough to lift him even higher in a rank of people Yurio considered worthy talking to. He was amazing, and really smart too. He could apparently think of a rhyme for every foul word Yurio came up with, and he would chat with him about the meaning and the technique behind some paintings hanging in the house. 

Meanwhile, Yuuri stared from the food table, smiling to himself. Artsy kids always got along well, they somehow always got something to talk about. Those two were meant to be good friends, it was almost prophecy. And the kid looked happy…the wrinkle of his brow was almost unnoticeable! Holy shit! He allowed himself to relax about the friendless Yurio matter and decided to concentrate on his own life for a while. 

It didn’t take him a minute to remember his own life was, in fact, boring. And that he should probably find some entertainment somewhere else rather than his own head while Phichit finished talking to Guang-Hong and Leo. Yes, he was as dependant as that. 

Looking around, he noticed how the conversations were divided in little chatter circles, for which the classification criteria seemed to be the level of alcohol they had in blood. Things hadn’t got wild, yet, and the worst group was barely tumbling in their walk. Viktor had been right about the clothing diversity, it really was an assortment. But what really called his attention, was the fact they seemed to be mixed up, talking with people who were in the same state of mind rather than those they could have met at a changing stall. Just the opposite to school cliques. That was an extra point for college. 

As he finished prying on a really amusing conversation between a jock and a gothic girl (who ended up making out, much to Yuuri’s hilarity), his eyes drifted to another small group of people that looked fairly young and fairly normal to be at that party right then. They were five of them, four girls and a guy, who seemed to be pretty good friends as they talked and laughed together. Now, he wasn’t really one to judge but, usually, when there’s many girls and one guy there are two possible options: Or he’s dating one of the girls (trying to get into her pants, perhaps), or…

No, he didn’t want to be prejudiced. But he didn’t seem to be close to any of the girls…and he was kind of attractive. He wasn’t really tall, he looked shorter than Yuuri himself, and also had some acne…but he had broad shoulders…Yuuri liked broad shoulders…and a nice haircut! 

He must have kept staring like the gay wreck he was, since the guy turned to look at him and they experienced one of those awkward express eye contacts. Well done, you idiot. Now he’ll think you are creepy. However, just when he was about to think he should hide under the table and avoid him until the party was over, the guy offered him a smile. A smile. A kind smile! 

He would have returned it, but he forgot how to.

“Hey, Yuuri!” Phichit woke him up from his abashment coma “My brother is organizing some drinking games…can you come with me? I don’t think is a good idea to go alone”

Drinking games? It sounded fun. Mari had specifically told him to save his sobriety for the drinking games, since, in her words: “going to a party without playing a drinking game, is like going to a restaurant and stuffing yourself with bread”. 

“Oh, ok” He said, grabbing the small bowl filled with cheetos from the table and grabbing handful after handful “just give me a moment”

Phichit, who hadn’t heard Mari’s advise on eating before drinking, was quite confused at Yuuri’s sudden binge, but decided not to comment about it. Leo though, in spite of also taking advantage of the free food, approached him with his eyes full of questions and a mouth full of crumbs. 

“Are you so hungry? Why don’t you try the cupcakes?” He suggested, pointing at the tray he had already assaulted “those are heavier” 

But Yuuri knew better, and that’s when he decided to pull out the survival guide’s point number five:

_**5) DON’T EAT ANYTHING THAT’S NOT FROM A PACKAGE**  
People tend to take adulterated treats to parties…don’t eat ANYTHIGN that’s not prefabricated. Just in case. _

“Hmm, I don’t know, I wouldn’t do that” He said, pushing the plate away “Have you ever heard of pot brownies?” 

Both Phichit and Leo looked at him like he had just suggested there was bomb in the edifice. 

“Dude, they are just cupcakes!” The latter said, taking a sly finger through the white frosting and between his lips “Brownies are a whole other story…who would be stupid enough to eat brownies at a college party?” 

“Fuck” 

All of them turned to look at a much distressed Guang-Hong, who was taking with his mouth full and teeth stained with chocolate. 

“Oh my god” Phichit deadpanned. 

“Guang-Hong!” Leo exclaimed, pulling at his own hair in distress “How many did you eat!?” 

“I don’t know…like five” The poor kid answered, looking at his tasty dirty hands, not sure of how to face the issue. 

“Did they…did they have weed?” Yuuri asked, titling his head, inspecting him thoroughly as if he could detect the answer for himself. 

“I wish they don’t…”

There’s a minute of silence, in which they all kind of engaged in a weird staring contest with the tray of brownies, not really certain of what to do. It was Leo, who after a long sigh, dared to interrupt the easy muteness. 

“Well…maybe they weren’t pot brownies” He tried to be optimistic, seeing as his friend was beginning to panic “And if they were…then you’ll have kind of an interesting experience”

Hours passed by and bottles started to pile up on the floor. It was around 1 AM when Yuuri and Phichit sat down on a common round with some random people, and started playing a much controversial game of Never Have I Ever. And, with controversial, it doesn’t mean any of them got dangerously drunk or ended up making a disaster. The real controversy lied on the answers to some of the asked questions which were, indeed, very much unexpected. 

The problem with the Never Have I Ever game, Yuuri discovered that night, was that it was all a huge trap for everyone to get critically wasted. Seriously. The trick was starting with the silliest of questions, those embarrassing things everyone had done sometime. Like blaming someone else for one of your own farts, or masturbated thinking about a celebrity (Yuuri had to watch Phichit swallow down his very first vodka shot at that one, his eyes tearing a bit at the burning in his throat as he blamed Emma Watson and his teenage hormones). He took his first shot at the farts one, remembering how he once blamed Mari and how their granddad was so disappointed at her. 

His friend watched him swallow down the liquid, amazed, staring at him bug-eyed as he waited for a reaction that never really happened.

“Whoa, didn’t it burn your throat?” he asked, feeling his own neck, still suffering the effects of his own drink.

“Yeah, kind of” The other shrugged, not really remembering how his first shot ever had been. 

That was the first time Phichit smelt something fishy going on that night…but definitely not the last one. 

As mentioned, the whole game seemed to be a well-planned trap to make everyone so drunk they couldn’t stand up from the ground later on. And not because of the amount of questions, but because of the strategically calculated order in which they were asked. They seemed to be in order of wilderness, and after everyone was already on one or two confident shots, things started to get kind of bizarre.

At first, when they got between the lines of “Never have I ever got so drunk I threw up”, and Yuuri ashamedly drank from his cup, Phichit stared at him surprised. Even Yurio and Otabek, who were soberly staring from the distance, hadn’t taken him for a heavy drinker. 

Wrong, they had been so wrong. 

And they kind of had to munch on their prejudices as they continued to see him gulp shot after shot, agreeing on quite a numerous amount of intense questions that, together with his evident high tolerance, were enough to prove them wrong. 

And then…then it all got risqué. 

“Never have I ever…kissed someone 10 years older” 

Yuuri drunk, together with many other players. But Phichit’s eyes were solely set on him.

“Never have I ever…HOOKED UP with someone 10 years older” 

By this point, not only his friends were staring at him drink but also other players. They kept elbowing each other and pointing at him, murmuring comments like “holy shit, that kid is intense” or “such a badass”. Honestly, Yuuri was in no mental state to care. He wasn’t really drunk, no, it took way more to make him dizzy. He was slowly losing his inhibition, not his conscience, he perfectly knew his limits and he wasn’t planning on trespassing them. 

“Never have I ever…gave or received a blowjob in a public toilet” 

Phichit almost loses his shit as he saw him taking the glass to his lips once again. 

“DUDE” He exclaimed, making everyone laugh even harder since they found it funny not even his friend knew about the anecdote “Are you being serious right now!??” 

Yuuri shrugged, unaffected. 

Normally he would have lied about that if asked, but alcohol was beginning to charge its effects on him and embarrassment was long gone. 

“Never have I ever…had sex inside a car”

Of course, of course he had. 

“Are you…feeling alright?” Phichit asked, kind of tipsy, even though he barely had three shots and Yuuri had had…well, he couldn’t really tell “You drank quite a lot”

“Yeah I’m fine” The answer was honest, but as soon as he turned his head to look at him, he noticed there was some kind of blurry delay in his sight. Oh. Maybe he should stop drinking for the while “I had enough though, one more shot and I’ll start stripping” 

Phichit didn’t know if it was a joke or if he would actually get naked by that point, but he chuckled anyways, as he wobbly tried to stand up from his place in the round. 

When Yuuri stood up though, much to his surprise, the other players started to cheer. Cheer…like, at him! And the poor boy had never been so confused in his entire life. All he saw and heard was this horde of drunken teenagers clapping and screaming…even fricking Franklin the Turtle was clapping! What was his name again?? He forgot, his mind was kind of foggy. 

“Arthit, who is this kid!??” One of the older ones asked. Arthit…that was it “He’s so wicked man!” 

Yuuri blinked, looking around, trying to understand what was he feeling in the moment, being applauded for some of the experiences that had hurt him the most, the decisions he more than anything regretted taking, the darkest secrets he held…somehow, it felt good. Really good. 

It was an odd, macabre satisfaction; the one to be praised for your misdeeds. There was the adrenaline that came with the ovation, with the approbation of others, that minuscule second in which one felt like a demigod, and all of their mistakes were suddenly canceled. Maybe he didn’t have alcohol problems, maybe it wasn’t a bad thing, maybe Viktor was just exaggerating. That was just the worst way to phrase the issue. He was just having fun…right?

As he left the living room, with Phichit following him as best as he could, he entered the kitchen and saw a pack of beer cans. Yuuri had never really liked beer, he preferred other drinks, since he found it to be kind of bitter. He usually waited for cocktails, like a cold Screwdriver or Caipiroska. 

But right then, what he was looking for was not precisely a good taste. 

With his mind already washed out from frets by the game’s shots, he grabbed one of the cold cans with his shivering hands and opened it, ignoring his frozen fingers, and ignoring Mari’s rule number six. 

_**6) NEVER MIX DRINKS**  
Alcohol affects you SO much worst if you drink different beverages. Please, if you want to stay in your right mind, don’t mix drinks. It’s dangerous. _

However, as he felt the taste of the aluminum between his lips, and then the first, dense sip of bitter foam got his nose to wrinkle, someone grabbed him by the arm and forced him to pull away. 

Yuuri stopped his every action, suffering the effects of condensation, the abrupt contrast between the burning of alcohol inside his body and the cold, intense look in Phichit’s eyes. Small droplets, like the ones coating the beer can, were now rolling down his spine, itching, suddenly making him hyperaware of every sensation. The cold, the heat, the bitterness, the vertigo, the bubbling in his stomach, the bump of every single bud of his dry tongue, that felt like burning even though he had just taken a drink. He took a look at the can in his hand. 

What was he doing?

“Hey, not to be a party pooper or anything…but maybe you drank too much already?” Phichit was gentle, so gentle, as he opened the firm, frozen grip of his fingers around the beer and took it away from him “I can give you some soda if you are thirsty …are you alright?” 

No, he wasn’t, he wasn’t feeling alright. 

He had just realized he really had no control whatsoever over his actions, his thoughts, his life…did really the ovation of some worthless drunkard college students almost make him fall into his vices again? At first he had promised himself he wouldn’t drink, then he had raised the bet to just a sip, then just a glass, then just for the game…and look at him now. In the kitchen, desperate, about to gulp down a liquid he didn’t even like for the mere pleasure of being unconscious. And if it hadn’t been for his friend, who knows how far he would have gone…

It was kind of ironic, because Phichit was even drunker than he was. And still, he was thinking more clearly. 

He didn’t know if it was because of the fear, the alcohol he already had in blood, or just the desperate need to hold onto something, but next thing he knew he was getting between Phichit’s arms, resting his head on his shoulder, enjoying the heat, the smell, the unconditional shelter…enjoying the mere knowledge of having someone so important in his life, someone who cared, and who was willing to protect him from his most horrid threat: himself. 

“Are you feeling ok? Are you dizzy?” 

The hug was short but effective, and by the time they pulled away, Yuuri was smiling kindly again and nodding, almost completely convinced. 

“Yeah…shouldn’t I be asking that question though?” He giggled, seeing the other’s lidded eyes and lost pupils “You look like you had just woken up from a coma” 

“Rude!” Phichit laughed, a bit more energetic, punching his shoulder with the strength of an ill butterfly “And here I was being a good friend and everything…” 

Yuuri was about to continue his tipsy attempts of mockery (and maybe ask for a glass of water…since he really didn’t like the taste of beer) when the door to the kitchen was suddenly yanked open, and an overly vigorous Yurio made his unexpected (totally dramatic) appearance. 

“Hey, you!” He pointed at Phichit, his humor as sharp as a pencil, ready to scribble down some foul words “Where the fuck is your toilet??” 

When they both first glanced at him, they almost had a simultaneous heart attack. But it didn’t take them much longer to understand that the red substance dirtying the punk’s entire shirt, was no the product of a murder attempt but was, in fact, ketchup. 

“Yurio??” Yuuri arched a brow “What happened to you??” 

“Your fuckin friend!! That’s what happened!” 

“Friend?” Now it was Phichit’s time to get into the train of confusion “What friend?” 

“The lunatic fucking idiot that apparently enjoys throwing food at people! Look at my hair!” He turns to show a very much red ponytail “I was just hanging out with Otabek when this retarded kid with a baby face and brown hair appears out of nowhere and empties the fucking ketchup package on me!” 

Phichit and Yuuri deadpan, making a minute of silence to face each other, trying to see if they weren’t the only one to reach such a ridiculous conclusion. 

When they realize the horrid truth of agreement, they gulp. 

“Guang-Hong??” 

“That fucker!” Yurio screams, grabbing a kitchen scrubber without permission and cleaning his clothes “He looks like he’s on drugs or some shit” He doesn’t seem to notice the look of horror on the others’ faces, or maybe he doesn’t care, as he asks for a place to clean himself again “Toilet??” 

“Uhm, second door to the left” 

As the angry, dramatic kid disappeared in the hallway, Phichit turned to glance at his friend to find a solution to the newfound problem, which was, apparently, a high first year. But Yuuri’s eyes were someone else, following Yurio through the house, narrowing his eyes as he remembered the seventh rule of Mari’s survival guide. 

It didn’t take long for them to hear a rather loud bang of a door, some screams, and the hurried bump of steps against the wooden floor, as they saw Yurio running away from the toilet like he were escaping a predator. 

“EW EW EW, NAKED PEOPLE, GROSS!” 

_**7) DON’T GET INTO THE HOUSE’S BATHROOMS** _

After they managed to convince Guang-Hong that climbing on top of the roof was in no way a good idea (he was certain he would be able to see a UFO if he waited long enough), the party reached its peak of euphoria. Except for poor Leo, who got stuck taking care of his friend raving about life in outer space, everyone else decided to give a chance to the dance floor. Well, not a dance floor, but that sufficiently wide space between the couch and the fireplace that seemed to be enough for the crowd of dancing drunkards. 

Otabek had grown done of the shitty music choices, so he saw the chance and he took it when the guy who was in charge of the music got so high he couldn’t even grab the laptop’s mouse, and decided it was his turn to set the beat. Yurio was there with him, of course, with his own suggestions and scorning about why didn’t he play some Beethoven. 

The point is, the new music choices made by someone with a proper taste and on his right state of mind, had everyone standing up and pulling out their best moves. Which where, in most cases, not really good moves. Only a few ones were rhythmical or sober enough to display a proper dance.

And, of course, one of those phenomenal exceptions was Yuuri. 

If everyone had been immeasurably impressed by the Never Have I Ever game already…gosh, someone should have made some kind of Renaissance styled painting of their faces as soon as they saw him swaying his hips. And, the more they clapped, the more he showed off his skills. At first it was just moving to the beat, but ovation comes with some sort of addiction, and Yuuri was getting high on it. 

By that point, he didn’t know where the limit between the alcohol and his own disinhibition was. At some point the blur had drained from his vision and he was still dancing, with the same enthusiasm he did when he didn’t kind of understand what he was up to, and he didn’t care at all. He didn’t care about the few ones who weren’t pleased with his display, he didn’t care about the comments he knew Yurio would make later on, he didn’t care about the complaints sober him could have in the morning, and he didn’t care about the beer that was still waiting for him in the kitchen. 

He didn’t need it. 

His free style and free spirit drove everyone else to try different moves and sequences, which was hilarious, since no one really could follow his pace. They all kept trying to mimic him, move as fast, as sensually…There were some injuries. 

Phichit, who had apparently engaged in a game of beer-pong a while ago, limited himself to chuckle and record the happenings with his phone for future laughs. That was, until Yuuri thought it was unfair and decided to drag him into the improvised dance floor, grabbing him by the arm and almost making him drop the phone. 

The poor guy had the rhythm of an epileptic elephant. 

He danced with his friend either way, accidentally pushing him or stepping on his feet, not really sure of what he was doing or if he would remember it the next day. He hoped he did though, since he was extremely happy. 

People started fighting for Yuuri’s hips, they all wanted to dance with the life of the party. Mostly girls, who were suddenly getting interested in such a cool, mysterious personality, but some guys were in the mood to dance with him, too. Remember the hierarchy theory? Well, apparently, social events had a ranking of their own, and he had managed quite a privileged place, that had everyone else wanting to breathe his very same air. Dancing with him had become an achievement, the requirement for a status. 

Not that he was sober enough to figure that out by himself, honestly. 

Everything was going on according to a non-existent plan, until Yuuri felt a sudden tap on the shoulder. It was a girl, a short girl, of pretty brown eyes and hair, and lots of sweet freckles on her nose. He recognized her, she was one of the unknown attractive guy’s friends, and she looked ready to jump him at any passing second. Well, shit.

They danced for a while, with the girl making dangerous attempts to get closer. What was funny about the situation, was that he wasn’t really used to dancing with…well, females. Girls were used to guys taking kind of the dominant role, grab them from behind, make them spin and pull them close. But Yuuri’s dancing was kind of androgynous, with not real role for any of the parts, and that seemed to be amusing for this girl.

“You are really interesting” She whispered, way too close to his mouth. Was that beer in her breath? Ew “How old are you? You don’t look like a high school student”

“Uhm, I’m nineteen” He looked around, trying to find an alibi to escape, feeling kind of trapped with her arms around his neck. But all he found was an hysterically laughing Phichit, who seemed to be having fun with his hetero-adventures.

“Oh, you are the same age as I am! That’s great…” 

She seemed nice, but for obvious reasons he wanted to attempt some kind of rejection. And he would have done it, if it hadn’t been for Mari’s rule number eight.

_**8) DON’T OPENLY REJECT A FRIEND OF SOMEONE YOU ARE INTERESTED IN**  
Friends have codes, dude. And I think it’s pretty obvious you can’t just simply flirt with someone who rejected a friend of yours. It would be cruel. So, if you find a hottie, don’t let their friends down. You’ll lose your chances._

He was having quite a good streak that night, and he wasn’t going to risk losing a potential opportunity. After all, he knew his stupid crush on the school counselor was unhealthy and childish. It would be idiotic to let this chance slip because he was falling in love with Viktor…he was falling in love with Viktor? God, please stop giving his dizzy mind so many thoughts to juggle. 

Since all he saw as he looked for a distraction was a very much bugging Phichit, he decided to kill two birds with one stone and kindly derive the girl’s attention to his friend. After all, she was really pleasant, and he was sure Phichit would rather dance with her than keep messing with him. 

Impressively, it worked.

And, even much impressively, the next one to approach him was Mr. Attractive Guy. 

They danced for a long while, with enough closeness for all the interested girls suddenly let their hopes down. He wasn’t really a good dancer, honestly, but he kept a stable rhythm, and was really nice and charismatic. It was somehow different to all the times he had danced with someone at The Madmen Cage, less…sexual, maybe. It was just meant to have fun, and maybe flirting a bit, with subtle wandering hands and stares so suggestive they could have been heart-eyed. But it was all a little game, both of them knew, the next day’s antacid was going to kill all the butterflies. So he was just going to enjoy the feeling for as long as he could, since it wasn’t everyday that he managed to get a cute guy to dance with him outside the nightclub. 

He wondered what dancing with Viktor would feel like. 

At some point the guy asked if he could kiss him, to what Yuuri simply laughed, and said it wasn’t the right place. It was kind of a silly answer, since everyone could have kind of figured out there was nothing straight on two guys dancing so close to each other, their chests pressed together, their arms intertwined…but a kiss was kind of like the confirmation stamp, and he kind of not wanted to cause a turmoil. 

However, when the four long forgotten friends decided they were tired and wanted to leave, it wasn’t before the guy stamped a quick, noisy kiss on his mouth as they were saying goodbye at the porch. It had been nothing, just a clumsy peck as not to leave without completing the task. Yuuri rolled his eyes. Kisses at porches? Wow, how original. But when the guy wrote down his phone number and handed it to him, he didn’t really complain. Not that he was planning on calling…but it was candy for the ego. 

As soon as he stepped inside the house again, he had to listen to Phichit’s mocking whistles and receive his way too euphoric pats in the back. 

“Whoa, Yuuri…I didn’t thought that kind of guy was your type!”

Yuuri snorted. 

“What would you know about my type, anyways?” He laughed, trying to walk pass him and go check on Guang-Hong.

“Well…he doesn’t look at Viktor”

The only reason why Yuuri didn’t pick a book from the shelf and threw it at him right then, was because he was still kind of tipsy, and was afraid of missing the target and breaking a window instead.

The party was slowly beginning to dry out. Most of the dancers had already left or passed out somewhere, and the remaining awake ones were using their last minutes of energy to engage in some ridiculous chattering. 

Guang-Hong had fallen asleep, fortunately, and Leo was able to join a group conversation, between Yuuri, Phichit, Yurio, Otabek, and some random drunkies who had butted in at some point. They were somehow talking about Masterchef, not really knowing what kind of odd turns had the conversation taken to end up in that route, but the thing was getting heated up with Phichit fighting some other dude to death about who should have won last season. All of them had quite of a strong opinion in the matter, all except for Yurio and Otabek, who stayed because it was hilarious to see older people fighting over a chicken soup recipe they saw on TV. 

“But did you even see what that bitch cooked!?? It looked fucking disgusting!!” 

“Excuse me?? And you call THAT a vitel tone???” 

However, the very much frenzied argument was interrupted by the abrupt appearance of another man, a rather tall one, with really short hair, and who looked fairly high. He seemed so lost, like he had suddenly forgotten the motive for his presence, but apparently the knowledge came back as soon as he saw Yurio, and pointed at him with a wobbly finger and a stoned laugh.

“I know this guy!” He said, still chuckling to himself, disrupting the conversation “Holy shiiiiit I know this dude!!”

“Uhm…no?” Yurio arched a brow, not in the mood for a druggie, trying to see if the repressor effects of his death glare were compatible with the ones of dugs. They weren’t. “I have not a motherfuckin clue on who you are” 

“But I saw you! At Hasetsu’s Geriatric House!!” 

Air was suddenly so thick, so dense, the words just wouldn’t sink in it; they floated, stayed there, echoing for everyone to hear. 

“I…you must be mistaken, I don’t…”

“But it’s you! Your surname’s something like…Pli…Plistetska….No! Plisetsky! You are Nikolai Plisetsky’s grandson!” By this point, everyone was staring at the poor boy, wondering, searching, trying to peck him to pieces with their nosy, inquiring eyes. The guy didn’t seem to notice the tension in the air, and hugged the kid by the shoulder, pointing at him, speaking way too loudly “Dude, this guy just goes there everyday and talks to this man who doesn’t remember shit! I see him every time I go to visit my aunt Clementine…do you know auntie Clementine?? You maybe do, you are all day in there dude!” 

As realization hit him, Yuuri had to literally take a hand to his chest to try soothing the physical, unbearable sting of pity. 

“You are so funny dude, always repeating the same stories to him!” He continued talking, oblivious to his own words and the impact they caused, unable to recognize the stink of rotting patience “He must have asked you about that tattoo like, a hundred times!” 

Yurio unconsciously caressed his inked skin, trying not to remember all the occasions in which he had had to explain his grandpa where did it came from, to the point he started covering it each time he visited. He felt a knot beginning to form in his throat, a knot that did nothing but tighten to the point of almost choking him as soon as he saw the look in Otabek’s face, staring at him.

“That’s not…I don’t…” 

That was stuttering, Yurio was definitely stuttering. 

“And duuuude you also talk about your mother so much! He asks you about her like, everyday! And she just never goes visit??? Such a bitch!” At the mention of his mother, the kid’s eyes were suddenly drained from all glint “You talk about her like with so much drama dude, seriously” The stoner laughed, inside his own smoky bubble of oblivion “Almost as if she were dead or some shit”

At that precise moment, with rage, sorrow, frustration, vomit, all clogged inside his swollen throat like a word cork, with his emotions all shook up and bubbling, ready to burst through his mouth like the foulest of projectiles, with his heart pumping fury and his tongue tasting like poison…he kept his lips sealed.

He wasn’t strong enough to turn such agony into an insult, nor did he want to. 

So he did whatever his disturbance allowed his body to do, and only his feet were far enough from the heart to react against the numbness, running, taking him away from the room and out to the cold streets of a winter night. 

It wasn’t until the silence was pinched, until they heard the loud bang of the front door echoing through the main hallway, that the group was able to breathe again. No matter how much alcohol was stored in their systems, it was impossible not to recognize a face of despair. And that had been it. Yurio’s face was nothing but the vivid image of anguish, and now he was out there, all by himself, god knows where, surviving the early morning’s chill alone. 

Yuuri was never fast reacting, so he was glad Otabek was impulsive enough to run after him five seconds after the departure, while all his sorry heart could do was keep him still and useless, surviving the tachycardia. 

_**9) NEVER LEAVE THE HOUSE ALONE** _

By around 6AM in the morning, everyone had already left. That, or they had passed out somewhere. But the point is the house was deafeningly silent, the walls still echoing the beat of the long gone music, and the cries of euphoria and the tingling smell of alcohol still lingering in the living room, still present, being the only guest who hadn’t left just yet.

Well, not the only ones.

Yuuri walked the party ruins, silently, his ears still drumming and purring, as he tried to sidestep the piles of empty cans and bottles and sleeping figures of two or three drunkards. Arthit was soundly asleep too (or maybe dead, who knows), with half his body on the couch and half on the floor, shirtless, and with some disperse hickeys on his torso. He looked so peaceful, compared to his earlier persona who partied like there was no tomorrow. Just like everything else around him, he had faded, he had turned off, as well as the lights, the music, the frenzy…everything had died out, and all remaining as evidence was the mess, and that faint feeling of numbness like the ghosting thread of smoke after a fire. 

He felt his phone ringing in his pocket, and let out a relieved breath as soon as he read Yurio’s name on the screen, and the short, yet so vital wording of “I’m fine”. 

The front door was opened at the end of the hallway, and he walked its way outside without even putting on his jacket. The air was freezing, so he had to hug himself for heat as he sat down next to Phichit at the porch’s stairs, silent, staring into nowhere. The sky was still dark, but not dark enough. Its clarity gave away the imminent arrival of dawn, but the sound of crickets and the glow of the streetlights were still there to create an atmosphere of night. 

He gave a long sigh, and didn’t even stiff as his friend turned to rest his head on his shoulder, closing his eyes, remembering how silence was like. 

“Tired?” Yuuri asked, smiling fondly at the two huge bags under the other’s closed eyes. 

“Hmm” Phichit nodded, clearing his throat “Everything was so…amazing. I had so much fun…and I danced with a girl! Yuuri, I danced with a girl!” 

“Yes you did” There was a little laugh, and a short silence for them to recall the happenings, to replay that night all over again…or at least the pieces they remembered “I had a great time” 

“Of course you did, you were the life of the party” 

Yuuri snorted. 

“That’s not true” He giggled, trying to stand up without letting his friend’s weight fall down the stairs “Come on, let’s get you inside. I don’t want you to catch a cold” 

“Nooo, you are comfy” Phichit almost dragged him down again, but his drunken clumsiness made him weaker and easier to maneuver “Don’t leave meee” 

“It’s late, you idiot. I need to get home too”

“Stay over” He suggested, even though it sounded more like an order “I don’t think I know where my room is right now” 

Yuuri bit a smile, actually flattered, since it was the first time someone asked him to stay over. Well, that time at Viktor’s didn’t count…that was sort of an accident. 

Of course, his mind started to spit out a thousand worries and questions on how to behave or what to do. Where was he going to sleep? At what time was he supposed to leave in the morning? What if he snored? Was he being a burden? But he was so tired all of his thoughts seemed to dry out somewhere between his unconsciousness and his consciousness. Canceling, ceasing to manifest.

In the end, everything turned out naturally and without further thought. Phichit basically dragged him onto his bed with him, on top of the covers, and falling asleep not even a second after he closed his eyes. It was kind of uncomfortable, since the mattress was small and cramped for two people, but they were way too sleepy to care about that at the moment. Maybe their sore backs and necks would tell them it had been a bad idea in the morning.

Yuuri snoozed for a while, sleeping in short intervals, only realizing he had dozed off some minutes each time he opened his eyes and saw the room was a little clearer. He would have checked the time at the night table, but his friend’s head wouldn’t let him see the clock, and he didn’t want to wake him up. So he just stood still, staring at the ceiling, waiting for his next round of slumber to finally hit him and drift off once again. 

“Say, Yuuri” Phichit’s groggy voice interrupted the process, and he hummed in response for him to know he was awake “Was everything you confessed in the Never Have I Ever…true?” 

He knew the question would come at some point, but he wasn’t ready to face it so soon. Maybe it was better that way, maybe shock wouldn’t let him lie. 

“Yeah” Was his sole answer, simple yet loaded, spoken to the ceiling. 

“And did you enjoy it?” 

“Enjoy what?” 

None of them turned to look at the other as they spoke. 

“The sex. All those things you said you did. How was it?” 

One could believe this was a common, shallow question between friends, the obvious, the information everyone assumed they shared.

ut his tone wasn’t the one of a nosy, gossip-hungry buddy. 

It was darker, serious, so full of implications Yuuri knew it meant otherwise. If he didn’t know better, he’d have thought the guy was talking in his sleep. And maybe he was. Maybe he would forget about all the chatter in the morning. But he also knew he had to answer anyways, now that he was half-asleep and senseless himself. 

“I…don’t really remember much” Was the vague truth, spoken so calmly, so absent from his own memory “I was really drunk each time, and I kind of didn’t know what I was doing”

“Did they force you?”

“I wouldn’t say ‘force’” He knew where the train of thought was going, and he wanted to derail it as soon as possible “I mean, they didn’t hurt me…I was just so gone I couldn’t put many objections” 

“But did you want it to happen?” 

“I didn’t mind, I was drunk” 

“So they raped you” 

No, that wasn’t the word. He didn’t want to use that word. That was not the word to phrase it…it was too tough…and he didn’t like how it sounded. Not at all. 

Yet, he couldn’t answer. 

And that was awful, painful, so disgustingly frustrating.

Because, if he couldn’t answer, that meant he couldn’t deny it. 

Silence ruled the room once again, only interrupted by the sound of their even, tired breathing, and the engine of some distant cars. For the first time in Yuuri’s life, silence wasn’t soothing. It didn’t feel like silence, it felt like a not-noise, a not-reply. A reply he had stuck all the way through his mind, heart and gut like a remorse brochette. 

Sometimes, things didn’t seem to exist until they were put into words. And now, after hearing that wording, after the memory was rephrased with the taste of that soiled, horrid word…everything had a whole new, darker meaning. 

“There once was an exception though” He said, trying to clear his mind, recalling his emotional anesthesia “A man…a man who I had the audacity to forget about, who not only gifted me his jacket, but also made sure I got home safe”

“What do you mean you forgot?” Phichit asked, yawning, yet not close to being uninterested.

“I don’t know, I usually remember neatly what I do while drunk…but that night is just a blank. I woke up the next day in my room with his jacket on, some dollars in my pocket, and a note saying he had put my phone and wallet at a safe place. I had this…warm feeling inside, that I couldn’t explain. I was so happy for no reason, without even remembering what happened. Hell, I don’t even know if we had sex, I think we didn’t, I didn’t feel like I had…but I had hickeys in my throat. Maybe he didn’t want to force me” As he spoke, a slight, gentle smile made its way to his lips “Dude, I’m in love with a stranger”

“Didn’t he sign the note?? No phone number?” 

“He signed it as V” 

Phichit couldn’t help the mischievous, almost evil-like chortle that broke with his sleepy demeanor.

“What if it’s Viktor?”

“Don’t be stupid” Yuuri didn’t know if he should feel glad or offended about the suggestion “That’s ridiculous”

“But not impossible” 

“Well, actually…” He trailed off, unsure to reveal the detail “Viktor said he saw me at the bar I frequent, once”

“Are you kidding me?” Phichit shifted, now looking at him “Yuuri, what if…”

“It’s not him, Phichit. I know he’s not, he would have told me…Plus, that was a REALLY expensive jacket, I’m sure he would want it back” 

He felt the vibration of his friend’s laughter against his shoulder. 

“True…but just imagine…”

“Phichit…”

“Just imagine! It would be fantastic, the greatest love story of our generation” 

“Phichit!!” 

“Ok ok…I’ll shut up” He giggled, turning to a sleeping posing once again “But better love story than Twilight” 

Yuuri nodded, recalling the events and deciding it was, indeed, a very much better story than Twilight. 

“I think he even tied my shoelaces” 

Phichit almost falls from the bed.

“What??” 

“I don’t know if I’m imagining things or what…but my shoes were tied with a double knot…I never do a double knot! And I thought that maybe…”

“I can’t believe what I’m hearing, you are delirious” 

“Don’t make fun of me! It’s true!” He almost finished throwing him to the floor with a kick, but Phichit got a grab from the headboard and kept himself in place “You are an asshole” 

“Sorry…it’s weird you forgot about that man though, you know, since he was so kind to you” 

“Yeah…I don’t know” He shrugged “He made me really happy” 

“Maybe that’s why you forgot about him”

Yuuri looked down at him, his gelled hair quitting the pushed back style and falling on top of his crooked brows.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you are one of those people who trend to self-boycott everything they do, Yuuri, you never allow yourself to be happy, much to my concern…maybe this is just another example of that” 

Again, silence.

Again, they were limited to hear the sound of crickets, slowly fading into the chirping of birds. 

Again, the humming of their own fogged thoughts lulled their restless minds to sleep.

And, again, Yuuri had to deal with the arduous labor of peeking into his own soul. 

Phichit must have noticed his disturbance, because right before he fell asleep again, he unconsciously cuddled against him and whispered:

“Please, take care”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and for all the sososososos wonderful coments I love you all!! I swear you are what keep me writing this story, your support gets me so hype. 
> 
> PD: I don't know what I was thinking about with the pot brownies thingy...I'm so sorry XD


	8. Merry Crisis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY FOR THE LATE UPDATE ONCE AGAIN.  
> Same excuses: lots of studying, random shit getting in my way(? 
> 
> Hope you enjoy the chapter! I don't know how you'll feel about this one...

When Otabek finally found Yurio, it was at the swings of a nearby park. The street was mute, with no cars daring to interrupt the early morning’s harmony, and a thin layer of snow making everything seem softer, blunter, almost surreal. The image of the boy, sitting on the wooden swing, reddened nose and cheeks, was a drop of warmness in the overall cold, a drop of color, a drop of coffee in a glass of milk. 

“Hey” The swing creaked as he sat next to him, and a white, puffy cloud of smoke left his mouth together with the greeting.

“Hey”

The wind was freezing, and leather jackets aren’t as warm as they are cool. Yuri was wearing what seemed to be a much snugger coat, but his pink, icy fingers said otherwise. He made no attempt to temperate them, to hide them in his pockets, he just kept them out there, gripping at the swing’s rusty chains, not sure if he could move them if he tried right them. 

“Look, Yuri, I…”

“If you are here to feel sorry for me, then you can fucking leave” He muttered out, bitter “The last thing I want right now is a fucking pat in the back and stupid words of…” 

“I’m not here to feel sorry for you” Otabek raised his voice on top of his, trying to gather some lead, to fool him into thinking he knew what he was saying “I’m here to say I admire you” 

He wasn’t having it.

“Why would you?”

“I mean…you went through so much shit and still manage to keep yourself together” Otabek tried to differ from the common speech, rephrase it, make it sound sincere“You are so badass” 

However, as he reached out his hand to soothe what he thought would be a mournful reaction, Yurio turned abruptly around and slapped his hand away. 

“Fuck you!” He spit, teeth gritted and unsteady throat, bending forwards in pain, like he had just been stabbed in the gut “Fuck you and pity! Fuck everyone who thinks they’re so important, that they’ll get into my life and turn it upside down! Fuck all those so-called heroes! I need none of them! I need none of their bullshit! And I don’t need you!” Otabek blinked, flinching away from him. Not even a poet’s tongue had an answer for that “That’s why I don’t want anyone to find out about my life, I’m done with psychologist and counselors, sorry sick adults, and those fucking kids who think they can just…solve all of my shit! Well, they can’t! No one can! No one can change what happened to me!” 

He wasn’t crying, no, that didn’t seem to be between his bodily functions. He had cried way too much already, years ago, alone. So much, one would think he should have run out of tears by then. But that was not the case. 

We all have a limit, just like our muscles, our soul can’t carry the world’s weight. There’s a certain amount of suffering we can handle without hurting ourselves, and we need a way to camouflage the exceeding if we value our lives and health. That’s when the emotional masquerade comes around, with all our feelings in the most elaborated of costumes, dancing to the beat of the unconscious, pretending to be something they’re not. Ignorance, forgetfulness, obsessions, jokes…they’re all tailor-made, hiding the identity of much stronger emotions, dangerous ones, those we need to hide from. 

Yurio had learnt to disguise pain with rage, fear with hatred, and crying with violence.

“You don’t have to snap at me like that” Otabek frowned, trying to take a peep on his eyes, but it was difficult when he had his hood on and all his hair on his face “I didn’t mean to…” 

“Yes, you did mean to. You did mean to console me and pride me, to try to make me feel better, so that you could take the weight of pity out from your chest. I’m done with people doing that, only approaching me because they see me like this fucking stray puppy they need to adopt. Fuck all of you, I need no charity!” 

“That’s where you are wrong!” Otabek’s raising voice echoed through the park’s trees, deep, solemn, breaking with his forever serene character “It’s not charity, Yuri! Stop being so dramatic all the time! I want to be your friend, not your savior!” 

Yurio turned to look at him, eyes narrowed and nose wrinkled, like he had just took a sniff to his own rotting dignity. 

“What?” 

“You heard me, ever since I met you at that arts club when we were kids, I thought you were talented and smart. You were so…determinate! You did whatever you wanted to do! And now I meet you again, thinking I have the chance to really get to know you, but all you do is act bitter and resentful all the time. It’s impossible not to feel sorry for you, but not because you are weak or “a stray puppy”, but because you are so lonely! And that has nothing to do with your family situation, it’s YOU who keeps pushing people away” His speech was grave and reproachful, almost parental, but it was his eyes, the pitch black vehemence, what made the other feel weak in the knees “All the people you ill-treat have absolutely no blame in your problems. And neither do I” 

No one had ever spoken to him like that. 

No one had ever gathered the sufficient guts to throw his mistakes at him, criticize him.

No one had ever treated him like a man, a human, an intermediate between a detonating bomb and fragile porcelain. 

No one had ever been honest, shameless, uncaring of the consequences. 

And Yurio didn’t know to what extent he was furious, and to what extent he was glad. 

His pulse was running wild. 

Maybe it was because of that, thanks to his raising heartbeat, that he felt like the silence lasted an eternity. Maybe the fact he was able to fit around a hundred pulsations per second was what gave the moment such longevity, what made that pause feel so ridiculously long.

“You…you don’t understand…” He managed to stutter out, trying to cool off by burying his stare down the snow. 

“You are right, I don’t” Otabek confessed “And I don’t need to understand. I just need you to stop being so whiny, and talk about music and art with me” 

Yurio turned to look at him, eyes open wide, all of his defenses trying to anesthetize him again, to make him numb, to keep him from feeling that bittersweet coil tweaking at his chest. 

“You are a fucking idiot” He sunk his head in his hands, in an attempt to deny the tickles at the corner of his mouth. 

“Am I?” Otabek snorted, purposely trying to catch a glimpse of that accidental smile “Then you are a fucking asshole” 

Yurio couldn’t help the chuckle that broke through his mood, that grim demeanor he was always so eager to portray, now shattered and showing a much gentle side instead.

“Pfft, what happened to the poet?” He teased, getting used to the warmness, as if he were slowly sinking in a bathtub “I didn’t have you for a potty mouth”

“And I didn’t have you for a smiler” 

“Shut the fuck up” Both of them chortle, and Yurio reaches for his phone inside his pocket “I better tell Katsuki I’m ok…” He said, texting “The piglet will call the police or something if not” 

“That’s because he cares about you, you should be nicer to him” 

“No need” He answered mindlessly, busy with the typing “He already knows I like him” 

Otabek couldn’t seal the wide, merry smile that cracked through his face unwillingly. 

“Oh? So you like him?” 

Yurio almost drops his phone, only realizing what he had said just yet.

“What?? No! I don’t!” He hissed, clenching at the swing’s chains “I would never like someone as fucking stupid as…” 

“Yeah, sure. Whatever you say” Otabek turned a deaf ear, kicking the other’s swing with his foot, sending him to rock back and forth. 

“Ugh, you are a pain in the ass” He returned the kick, but strong enough to almost throw him back to the snow. 

They shared a silence, friendly, equally. Comfortable, since they had portioned it in just the right amount for each, like a pie on an elementary school’s math problem. None of them carried more, nor felt the weight beginning to sink. None of them carried less, nor felt the need to stretch it. They were both at ease, content, with no more questions to neither make nor answer. So they just stood there for a while, using the swings for their proper purpose, and swinging as best as the rusted game and the snow beneath their feet allowed them. Just the right amount of chatter. Just the right amount of silence. 

“So…friends?” Otabek suggested, as shameless as always, never afraid of sticking his fingers through the bars of the lion’s cage “Is everything cool?” 

Yurio shifted, sticking a foot into the snow and stopping the swaying, looking at him with a playful, mischievous glint. 

“Yeah” He smiled “Everything’s… rad”

“YOU DID WHAT!??” 

Yuuri dropped the garbage bag he was currently holding, not even caring about the sound of breaking bottles as soon as it hit the ground. 

“I’M SO SORRY YUURI I WAS DRUNK!” Phichit juggled with his own phone, trembling hands and sleepiness not being an agile combination, as he tried to delete that damn video from that damn website for once and for all “I’M SORRY I’M SORRY I’M SORRY!” 

“I’M GOING TO MURDER YOU!” 

Yuuri, who was trying to discover what being a good friend was like, decided to stay after he woke up to help Phichit clean the house. Of course, Arthit wasn’t planning on helping, so the poor younger sibling would have had to pick up about a hundred bottles and clean like three vomit puddles all alone. Thankfully, Yuuri had stayed to give him a hand. And everything was going alright, with them singing the lyrics to some Of Monsters and Men songs…until Phichit got a certain notification on his phone. 

Apparently, while he was wasted the previous night, he had recorded Yuuri dancing with that other guy, and he had uploaded the video to HasetsuRumorHasIt.com.

“Chill, Yuuri, it’s not that bad!” He tried to mend his mistakes, as he saw the other was about to panic, or kill him…none of those were good outcomes “I mean, it’s been a lot since I stopped using the webpage! Most people have disabled the notifications by then. Look!” He showed him the screen “See? Only six people saw it, it’s not a big deal” 

“Who?” 

“I don’t know, I can’t see the usernames of the viewers. But the notification I got was because someone liked it, and it was…oh, Sara Crispino. She’s cool, isn’t she?” 

Yuuri pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled what felt like sulfur gas. That video was kind of like, the ultimate confirmation about him being gay. He had been called a fag a thousand times, but it was more of like…a rhetorical fag, almost a metaphor…a hyperbole? He didn’t know, he wasn’t good at poetry. But he was really good at getting in trouble, apparently, and if that video got viral, then he was going to be in some serious shit.

It wasn’t that bad though…only six people, one of which it had been Sara. Sara seemed to like his dancing…which was probably the main reason she clicked the video. Was she going to show it to Michele? Was Michele going to make fun of him? Was anyone going to make fun of him?

Did he really care? 

“Yeah, ok. It’s not that terrible” He said, relaxing his shoulders, deciding he had maybe overreacted, and picking up his bag for the ground to continue with the cleaning “Fuck you, though” 

Phichit laughed, kind of struggled by guilt, but he wasn’t really good at dealing with tense atmospheres. Maybe that’s why he started to sing…to break the uncomfortable ice, before Yuuri’s fury could melt it. 

_“Is it too late now to say sorry?_   
_Yeah, I know-oh-oh, that I let you down_   
_Is it too late to say I'm sorry now?”_

At first Yuuri was way too angry to go on with the lyrics, but it was stronger than him. Come on, it was funny. Justin Bieber? Seriously? That was low, even for him. He must have been truly desperate.

Deep inside, he was afraid to start a fight. He was scared that if he acted offended, then he could lose his very first friend, and that would be even worst that having the whole school finding out about his sexuality. And, to be honest, he was really not the one to talk about drunken mistakes…

_“I'm sorry yeah_   
_Sorry yeah_   
_Sorry_   
_Yeah, I know that I let you down_   
_Is it too late to say I'm sorry now?”_

And so they spent the rest of the morning like that, cleaning, and singing other popular songs. They really tried not to think about the video incident since, in the end, it had only been six people who watched it. And yeah, he was dancing with a guy, what about that? He was drunk, maybe no one would make assumptions. Nothing would really change. 

After all, who else could have watched it that was so important??

Viktor woke up to quite a peculiar notification on his phone. 

He hadn’t unfollowed the site just in case, or maybe because he was lazy, or maybe because he couldn’t find the “Unfollow” button, who knows, he forgot. But as soon as he saw there was a new video he didn’t wait a second to click on it like the gossiping little fuck he was. What? Are you going to judge him? Teenagers were full of problems and shit, that website was a compilation masterpiece of their greatest failures, it was amusing!

However, as he played the video, he was definitely not amused. 

Was that Yuuri…HIS Yuuri?? Dancing with someone else??? Who did that fuckboy think he WAS?? WHERE WAS HE TAKING THAT HAND???

Viktor was outraged. 

He had been afraid of the kid’s social display at the party, but his worries turned out the other way around! The last thing he could have thought was Yuuri getting frisky with someone else!! Oh no…OH NO! What if that meant…people were starting to fall for Yuuri’s enchantments?? What if his new-built confidence turned him into a full-time Eros???? 

Viktor was terrified. 

That would mean he’d have to share his beauty with the rest of the world! And that, effectively, was a huge problem. No one was supposed to look at Yuuri the way he did. No one was supposed to talk at him with such intimacy. And, most importantly, no one was supposed to touch him THERE. 

Viktor was dead. 

Although he wasn’t the self-conscious of the pair, he was certainly quite wary himself. He thought Yuuri was his miracle, his own too-good-to-be-truth experience, his and only his, no one else’s. Since, although he truly wanted the boy to realize just how beautiful and wonderful he was, he was afraid of other’s taking it in. Why, you may ask? Because he was the damn counselor. And being the damn counselor, all he had to offer his loved one was the confidence and the security he had been working so hard on.

And now, now that all people could see how amazing Yuuri was, literally anyone could take his place. Because he wouldn’t need a counselor anymore. 

People complaint about the Friendzone? What about Counselorzoned?? It was, indeed, pathetic. He had just created a whole new category of doom to fall into, in which the man he loved only needed him as a stress-relief, as a last resource to cure his loneliness. And he couldn’t blame him, honestly, it wasn’t his fault. It was his, for falling for his patient, a student, that breathtaking dancing boy who didn’t need him at all.

He was an adult, and reaching that conclusion should have been easy, instantaneous. But Viktor was a childish man, capricious, and he wouldn’t let this pass without the pleasure of making a scene. At least, a scene for himself. He wouldn’t let himself think this was ok and acceptable, that Yuuri could go around, being his seductive self, breaking his heart like that. No way. He wouldn’t let it slip, and he wouldn’t let himself feel anguished before he felt enraged.

So, when Yuuri called later that day, totally oblivious to the crimes he had committed in Viktor’s head, he wasn’t welcomed as warmly as usual. 

“Viktor? Hello, Viktor!” From the mumbling engine of cars he could hear behind him, he knew he was walking down the street, maybe just out from Phichit’s house, wanting to tell him about the party “How are you doing? I have so much to tell you about yesterday!” 

There it was. 

“Oh, really?” He rolled his eyes, dramatically, wishing the other could see him through the call. But it wasn’t necessary, his voice was already damped in sarcasm.

“Uhm..yeah!” Yuuri tried to keep up with his enthusiasm, telling himself it was just his anxiety who misinterpreted the tone, and that there was nothing the other could be angry at him about “I had so much fun, I swear!” 

“Yes, I bet you did” 

The poor kid gulped what felt like a pebble. But it wasn’t a pebble. It was just spit, worries, discomfort, all solidified and pushed down his throat. He almost choked on it, he almost hanged the call, afraid he wouldn’t be able to keep talking. 

Yet, he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to think this was anything but another episode of his usual fretfulness, he didn’t want to even consider the chance of having made someone he loved upset, and he didn’t want to blame his damn self as he always did. No, not that day. Not when he was actually starting to feel happier about himself.

So he just kept on with the conversation, trying not to show his distress, nor let his voice tremble with the throbbing of his chest. 

“I…there was…I played drinking games! And met many people! And I also danced a lot and…”

“Uhm, I’m sorry, but I can’t keep talking right now, I’m busy” Viktor cut him off, thinking that maybe silence would give him enough time to think about what he did, and maybe realize he had received the role of the villain “Come to my office if you need anything” 

Yuuri stopped walking, feeling the snow beginning to slip into his shoes, wetting his socks, running chills up and down his spine. His voice cracked, and it wasn’t from the cold. 

“But…It’s Christmas break…we won’t have school in quite a long while and…”

“Sorry, I should go” Viktor sighed, annoyed, way too submerged in his role as the victim in a nonexistent drama…without noticing he was creating an actual one “Talk to you later, bye” 

“Bye” 

Yuuri reached his home, not even realizing he still had his phone stuck to his ear, unconsciously waiting for the other voice to pop out from the speaker once again. 

He closed the door behind him and headed directly to his room, he knew he was home alone anyways, so he simply took off his coat and shoes as he walked, throwing them around, not really caring where they landed. The last few weeks his room had been quite cleaner, since he didn’t spend as much time closed up as he used to, and since he had started taking care of his ambience a lot better. But in that moment, he couldn’t care less. 

He made a quick stop by the toilet to take his lenses off and, without even taking the trouble to change into clean, comfortable clothes, he opened his closet and searched for a certain something. No, it wasn’t his clubbing shirt, not this time. It was a jacket, a black jacket, a really expensive one, which was a little too big for him, and that still smelt like fancy, masculine perfume. V’s jacket. The only solid, palpable proof he had about someone ever caring about him, about having been cherished, appreciated. Loved.

 

Taking off his wet socks, he threw himself on the bed and curled into a ball, tight, wanting to squish against himself and disappear, hugging the jacket against his chest, rocking back and forth until he fell asleep.

_“He cares, he cares, he cares, he cares…”_

It had been a long while since Viktor felt happy on a Christmas day. Which was weird, considering no one seemed fitter to enjoy a holiday about giant ridiculous sweaters, food, and opening presents. Whoever knew him casually, would bet he was that kind of person to get super hype about it, decorating every corner of the house in white and red, and going around town knocking on doors and singing carols.

But whoever knew him better, would know Christmas day was also his birthday. And that his birthday had stopped feeling like rejoice way too long ago.

One would say he was a bitter man, not seeing he had a DOUBLE reason to celebrate on the 25th. However, two positives somehow made a negative. Don’t blame him, he wasn’t really good at math, and apparently, neither were his emotions. All he knew was that ever since his mother wasn’t there anymore, Christmas had stopped feeling like Christmas, and his birthday had stopped feeling like his birthday. 

For him, the holidays meant long tables and fancy napkins, empty chattering, and fitting turkey into an upset stomach. His family from his father’s side wasn’t exactly…who to call it?...festive. Dinners were long and boring, not to mention hypocrite. Why should he call a “loved one” someone he saw barely twice a year? It was odd to answer greetings, too. If someone said “Merry Christmas, and happy birthday!”, should he say “same to you”? Or should he just say “thanks”? Because, if he wished them the same, he would be kind of telling them happy birthday too, which was weird. And, if he barely thanked them, then wouldn’t that be kind of rude? It was stressful. 

Luckily, that year he wouldn’t have to deal with the awkwardness of a familiar Christmas eve and an even more awkward midnight of toasting and ambiguous greetings. No, this time was supposed to be so much better. Ice cream, themed movies, and Makkachin. Perfect. He needed no more, nor less…right? What more could he ask for? 

Company, maybe. 

Yakov, Yurio and Lilia wouldn’t come to visit till midday on the 25th. And right then, during the last few hours of the 24th, Viktor felt awfully lonely. In fact, those last two days in general had been particularly lonely and sorrowful. 

Could it, perhaps, have something to do with Yuuri’s absence?

Viktor realized he had made a mistake about 0.3 seconds after he ended that phone call. Even though he would never admit it, he was a very spoiled man, way too used to getting all he wanted all the time. And not only in terms of money, product of a pampered childhood, but also in terms of attention. Being so eye-catching, so charismatic, and plus a communications degree, he had everyone eating from the palm of his hand all the time. He was a tough, expert player in the games of hysteria, master user of silences and cold shoulders, a manipulative artist of other’s desire. Usually, after such a display of indifference, people were on their knees, begging to talk to him, and saying sorry for mistakes they didn’t even knew they had committed.

But Yuuri wasn’t like the people he was used to push around. Yuuri was sensitive, and Yuuri hadn’t called him back.

This time, it was Viktor’s turn to check his phone for messages every two minutes. Was Yuuri mad now? Was he indifferent? Had he finally realized everything was such a lunacy and that they should probably grow apart? He was afraid of the boy not talking to him again, since he had become aware of his own worth, and probably thought his counselor was an ass. Well, damn him, if that was the case. He didn’t know if he should feel offended or guilty to death, since he wasn’t really used to this kind of situations. Gosh, when had he become such an emotional wreck? He exactly knew when. 

At The Madmen Cage, during a chilly autumn evening, as he lost his own heart on the dancefloor. 

But he didn’t want to think about that, no. He had much more important things to worry about…like the fact he had just burnt his pre-made Christmas dinner.

When the clock hit midnight, he was cuddling to Makkachin at the sofa, drinking a warm glass of milk, and watching some holiday special on T.V. The first person to call him was Yakov, which was kind of heartwarming, since the phone started ringing at 00:02 AM. 

“Merry Christmas, Vitya” He said, following the usual pattern Viktor knew by heart already “And happy birthday” 

“Uncle, thanks for calling” His fingers traced the soft curls of his dog’s fur as he talked, enjoying the heat of its big, hairy body, forgetting about his qualms for a little while “Merry Christmas for you too…how are you doing? Everything good there?” 

“Yeah, it’s just the five of us, the usual old men squadron” Yakov snorted “They are all toasting now, but I took a minute to call you” 

“I really appreciate it…”

His uncle was kind of awkward at phone calls, that was a fact. But Viktor was so good at chattering he was usually able to stretch them for a while. He asked him about the food, how had he ate, if he had drunk with moderation, and if he had received any presents. He asked and asked, wishing the other would ask him stuff back, so that he could play the victim and make him feel guilty about leaving him alone on his birthday. But it didn’t happen, Yakov wasn’t the kind of man to go inquiring around, and he wasn’t very verbally agile, either. So his nephew had to accept his faith and end the call with a sulk, sinking deeper into the sofa, wanting to have someone to whine to. 

He received some text messages too. Some from his relatives back at his hometown, some old friends of his he had kind of neglected ever since he moved, and even one from Christophe. That last one managed to steal him a smile, and he answered right away and with an equal amount of inappropriate jokes. Aww, even Yurio and Lilia had sent him a message! Short and concise, of course, but still, they remembered. 

Yet, there were no signs from Yuuri. 

He replied all the messages, with emojis that looked nothing like the face he was currently wearing. Christophe called him after a while, as soon as the lines weren’t as busy with the midnight furor, and talked about his bizarre family reunions and some presents he was planning on buying for him. Presumably, it was going to be something dirty. He also asked him how he was doing, and how had he started his special day. And, of course, Viktor appreciated the chance to rant about his misery. 

“Sorry buddy” Christophe chuckled “I would love to pay you a visit, but I’m kind of far away, you know?”

“It’s ok, you don’t have to” He smiled, sadly “You can give me my obviously expensive present at school once the holidays are over”

“Oh believe me, you don’t want me to give it to you at a public place” They both laughed “We better meet during the week”

“That would be great” 

They shared one or two more jokes before Christophe announced his family was about to give out the presents, and that he should probably leave. Viktor didn’t want him to leave. He didn’t want the apartment to feel silent again, lifeless, so empty. No offence to Makkachin, who was a lovely and indispensable company, but he couldn’t help to feel so painfully lonely. 

Maybe it was because he wasn’t used to spending those holidays alone (even though previous years’ celebrations hadn’t been of preference), or maybe because he was kind of gloomy in general. His bad mood, the sleepless nights, the stupid Coke commercials showing happy people opening presents and eating turkey…it all had him rather upset and restless. His sleeping pills hadn’t been working lately, they never did when he was so distressed. 

Damn, what was wrong with him?

Hadn’t he moved to look for a better life? To look for company? Someone who made him feel loved and special again? 

Didn’t he want an adventure? 

His job was an adventure. The kids made him feel alive, made him feel like he had a purpose, like he was doing something rather than caring about himself. He wasn’t as nearly as applauded as he was back under his father’s wing, but somehow seeing one of the students smile was a thousand times more comforting.

Why was he feeling so hollow, then? 

So worthless, so insignificant, so ridiculously useless. He had finally, after so many years of living inside his little box, dared to break the walls, peep outside, explore the world and find a purpose. He had find his adventure, he was living it, he was enjoying every single second of it, of each one of them, all those little, lovely adventures each kid brought as they entered his office. The adventures, the students, all filled him with verve and sheer joy.

But he had just abandoned his favorite, most cherished adventure.

And he thought, he knew, he had failed. 

Just when he was about to doze off, between the cushions of his couch and the softness of his dog’s fur, he was surprised by the sudden ringing of the doorbell. He cursed, since it would have been the first time he fell asleep without the pills in days, but blinked the slumber out from his eyes as he got up from his seat, and opened the door to whoever wanted to sing Christmas carols at 1:30 in the morning. If the doorman had let those singing punks get into the flat again he swore he was going to…

However, as he opened the door, it wasn’t the singing punks he saw. 

His accelerated, buzzing heart heated up like the gears of an overused engine, contrasting with the cold, soft snow gathered on the other’s hair. Viktor gulped his drowse down, eyes opened wide, suddenly remembering all those holiday miracles in movies, unexpected midnight visits, presents, and fat men dressed in red. Only his Santa was neither dressed-up nor overweight. He looked gorgeous, flakes like little stars on his dark, gelled locks, trembling from head to toes, flushed cheeks and runny nose, trying to sink himself further into the heat of his garments. And, between his gloved fingers, there was a heated food bowl, still steaming, and smelling like absolute heaven. 

Right then, he looked like the vivid personification of warmth. 

“Hi” He mumbled, eyes wary and hesitant, and mouth hid behind a thick, yellow scarf. 

Viktor didn’t answer, he couldn’t. He was too busy dealing with the wrecking of his own insides, his beliefs, his convictions. Everything he had taught himself, the whole display of his hysteria, was suddenly melting like the small puddles of snow now wetting entrance’s carpet. 

That wasn’t the confident, resentful boy of his imagination. That was in no way the prideful, careless guy he thought had kept him waiting next to the phone on purpose. And that wasn’t even close to be the same person he had pictured walking away, abandoning him, finally opting for prudence and leaving him alone.

His childish, spoiled pride had no answer for the look in those eyes, so pure, so gentle. He had no excuse for the way he had treated him two days ago. And he had no console for the reprimanding twitching of his heart. 

“Yuuri…what are…why are you…?”

“I brought you some stew…the hotel’s kitchen has a really good cook, and I assumed you might want something hot and nice to eat since, well, it’s Christmas and…yeah” Yuuri stuttered, looking up at him with big, brown, shy eyes “Happy birthday” 

Viktor said no thanks, no sorry, no praise…nothing sounded appropriate, nothing seemed enough to portray the landslide of emotions he was currently dealing with. There was not a single greeting, not a single word to express how it felt to have his spirit come back to his body, how his whole world had suddenly reduced to a doorframe, a stuffed coat and a pair of glasses, no possible explanation for the overwhelming, passionate synesthesia: the color of pink cheeks, the sound of ragged breath, the delicious smell of that stew, all in fusion, all mixed and compressed into a single ball, a single heartbeat, a single feeling: pure and utter love.

Yuuri wasn’t on his right mind (nor heart) either, suffering the fretfulness of his own impulses, which had pulled him all the way down to that apartment on the very first hours of a snowy Christmas. He didn’t know if Viktor was angry, he didn’t want him to be, he refused to. He refused to let go the thing, the person, the bunch of guttural feelings that had made him feel happy to exist after so many years of loneliness. He refused, he refused because he knew he wouldn’t be able to take it otherwise. 

He wasn’t going to sit and wait for his anxiety to cut his cords again, not this time. 

However, when silence was about to make him regret his courage…that’s when he heard the sniffing. 

That’s when he adverted his gaze from the floor, and he saw the teary, dazed look in the other’s eyes.

“V-Viktor! Are you..?”

He couldn’t finish the sentence because, next thing he knew, he was being pulled into a tight, desperate embrace.

Viktor gave no bear hugs, no towering, imposing encirclements, of those that covered every inch of the body so gently and overly. No, if Yuuri had to describe it, he’d say he hugged like a python. He somehow tangled around the other, coiling, pressing, sliding, not leaving a single limb away from his deathly grip. Wet, with his face pressed against hi neck, hot, so hot, compared with the cold that was still sticking at his skin. It was tight, it was suffocating, but it was somehow fulfilling. Like Yuuri needed that pressure, like he needed someone to squeeze all his worries away. So he let him continue with his looping, trying not to drop the pot of stew, and telling his heartbeat not to give his fondness away. 

“Thank you so much” The man whispered, burying his face deeper into the crook of his neck, ticking him with his long lashes and heating up his skin “Thank you so, so much” 

The boy had just found his own hugger identity too, managing to somehow leave the pot on top of a shelf next to the door without untangling their bodies, and returning the embrace. Yuuri was a much gentle hugger, less of a crusher and more of a cuddler, rubbing against his chest like an overly-affectionate kitten, scrubbing the cold away against the fabric of his warmed shirt. He had spent the last two days thinking he was angry at him, or even worst, that he thought he was being needy and annoying at that he didn’t want to talk to him anymore. He had spent all that time trying to convince himself he was more than just another student for his counselor, but it was difficult, it really was. As Phichit had said before, Yuuri tended to boycott his own happiness, his own wellbeing, and he wouldn’t permit himself believe in others’ love for him. That’s why it was so hard for him to think about their relationship not being exclusively professional. And that’s why he needed that hug so much right then, too.

“I can’t believe you are here” Viktor sniffed, breathing in deep, placing his chin on top of the other’s head and rocking their bodies back and forth “Shouldn’t you be at the hotel with your family?” 

“My father got drunk toasting…again” He said “And so my mother and my sister got kind of busy taking care of him and yeah…I couldn’t help to remember you were going to be alone, and well, I also wanted to say sorry and…”

“Sorry?” 

“Yeah, for being such a burden all the time. The other day when I called you after the party, I guess it was disrespectful, I mean, you are just my counselor and I called you so informally and you were right to hang up on me because…”

“Never say that again” 

Yuuri blinked, as Viktor placed his hands on his shoulders and broke the hug, dead serious, disappointed trapped inside his glassy eyes. 

“Say what?” 

“That you are a burden. That’s not true, that’s never true” He looked angry, so angry. Yet not angry at him, but angry at himself “And don’t say I’m just your counselor, that’s a lie too” 

“It is?” 

“Of course it is” There was a moment of silence, in which they just stared at each other in bewilderment, none of them believing they were actually having that conversation. Viktor had promised himself he wouldn’t surrender, he wouldn’t give up on his role as a counselor. He couldn’t tell him just how strongly he felt for him, that would finish blurring the image, but he couldn’t let him think he hadn’t touched a fiber inside him either. How do you say ‘I love you’ without saying it? “Yuuri, I’m…I’m fond of you” 

Yuuri swallowed a gasp, with his heart clinging from the back of his throat and trying to burst out his mouth. 

“You really are?” He didn’t know if he had thought or said that, but it was actually an in-between whisper. 

“Totally” 

“Why?” 

“Why not?” Viktor took a hand to the side of his face, pushing some untidy locks back into the hairdo. He was so gorgeous, god, how was he supposed to act this out? How was he supposed to deny the obvious? He had already told him he liked him, there was no turn back now. Should he tell him the truth, then? Like, all the truth. Should he start from that forgotten night at The Madmen Cage? “I know counselors aren’t supposed to say this to their patients but, hey, we have feelings too!” Yuuri chuckled, and Viktor chickened. No, he couldn’t do it, he couldn’t tell him “You are an amazing person, Yuuri. And this, this visit of yours, you being here on my birthday…even though it’s Christmas! God, you just made me so ridiculously happy” 

This time, it was Yuuri who stood on his tip toes and hugged him, wrapping his arms around his neck, squeezing their bodies together as if they didn’t want to waste any floor tiles. 

Yet Viktor woke up from the hugging frenzy, he opened his eyes, stared at the scene like if he were a third person in the room. And he felt like he was witnessing a crime. He had messed up, hadn’t he? Actually, he had already messed up way too long ago. Starting with that very first kiss at the bar, followed by the day he took him to that football game, also that time he made him dance in the gymnasium, and when he let him sleep at his house that night he got drunk, and all the hand holding and loving stares, and that presumed date to the skating show, that conversation they had on the hood of his car, when he let him open his heart and didn’t ask back for the key…he had messed up really, really bad, and right from the very beginning. He had never been a good counselor, never had he followed the Counseling For Dummies advise, he had been following his heart this whole time, his instincts, the visceral love that boy awoke in him. And that was bad. He couldn’t tell him the truth and make him realize that, just how much of an incompetent he was and had always been. He was afraid he would never forgive him, and he would never forgive himself.

But the lulling rhythm of their rocking embrace was enough to send him back to the loving dreamland, that emotion-high state of ecstasy that comes with a well-given hug. And right then, between Yuuri’s arms, standing in his front door between the delicious steam of an already cooling stew… he didn’t really give a fuck about anything else.

_**THREE MONTHS LATER**_

 

_“I want to break free_   
_I want to break free_   
_I want to break free from your lies_   
_You're so self satisfied I don't need you”_

Yuuri discovered his job was, in fact, so much entertaining when he listened to music.

_“I've got to break free_   
_God knows, God knows I want to break free”_

And, certainly, so much funnier when Phichit was dancing badly right next to him.

_“I've fallen in love_   
_I've fallen in love for the first time”_

They were both mouthing the lyrics, with Yuuri moving his hips to the beat unashamedly, as he polished some of the cheap skates of the Ice Castle. His friend, since he didn’t have a job and a reputation to take care of, was dancing way more dramatically and exaggeratedly, climbing on the counter and making quite a show. Fortunately, there were no clients at that time of the day. In that case, then Yuuri would have had to take rather violent measurements to make him stay still. 

“Why are we listening to the radio like old people again?” He mocked, yet kept on with his rhythmical polishing, shaking his butt like a pro. 

“Because they are gifting tickets to see The King and the Skater 2!” Phichit grabbed him by the arm, spinning him around, making him drop the skate he was currently cleaning “You know how I feel about that movie!!!” 

“Yeah, it’s really good” The other chuckled, trying to pick up the skate from the ground “The choreographies are wonderful” 

“Just the choreographies?? Dude! Everything about that movie is perfect!” Yuuri rolled his eyes… _there he goes again_ “The soundtrack! The acting! The character development holy shit! It’s the best movie to ever be directed and now it’s having a sequel and I NEED to watch it!” 

“Calm your tits, I know it’s great” 

“It’s not just _great_ , it’s the top cinematographic phenomenon of the history of time!” 

Yuuri bit his lip, with no coherent answer to give as he continued to do his job, and swayed his hips to the beat of Queen. 

_“And this time I know it's for real_   
_I've fallen in love, yeah_   
_God knows, God knows I've fallen in love”_

“Hey Yuuri!” Both of them turned to the sound of a female voice, with poor Yuuri almost knocking down a shelf from the startle “Oh, sorry! Did I scare you?” 

“Oh, no. It’s ok, Yuuko” He grabbed the piece of furniture and tried to balance it since, if he let it fall, then he would have kind of a hard job ahead “Do you need something?” 

“Just passing by to say hi! My shift is boring now that I work at the administrative section with Takeshi. I miss working here in the counter with you!” She whined, smiling fondly, until she finally noticed Phichit’s presence in the room “Who’s that?” 

“Oh, I’m Phichit” He said, red-faced, praying she didn’t see him dance. 

“He’s a friend of mine” 

“I see…hello then! Don’t distract him too much! He’s a good worker!” She ruffled her companion’s hair, laughing merrily, and giving Phichit a friendly wink. Yuuri noticed his friend’s abashment, and made a mental note to mock him about it later “How’s school going, Yuuri? You are almost finishing, right? Graduation’s just around the corner!” 

“Yeah, thanks for asking. My grades are good, I kind of didn’t know I would get so far honestly” 

“Are you going to college? Have you thought about what you want to study?” 

Ouch, not right there. 

“Uh, not really” He tried to shrug it off. He failed.

“Oh, don’t worry! You’ll figure out soon!” She ruffled his hair, again, almost as a compulsion, a cute way to put an end to the casual small talk “I need to go though! Takeshi might need something!” 

“It’s ok, go ahead” 

“Bye Yuuri! Bye Phichit, it was nice to meet you! You are a nice dancer!” 

“Uhm…bye” The outcast friend waved back, uncomfortably, wanting to stab himself with a skate right then as Yuuri cracked up laughing beside him. Once she was gone, he defended his pride by punching his shoulder “Stop! It’s not funny!” 

“Yes it is!” His eyes were teary, and his laughter was coming out in ridiculous pig noises that gave even more relevance to his nickname, but he really didn’t care “You like Yuuko? She has a boyfriend, you know? And she’s like, five years older than you” 

“You are no one to talk, you hypocrite! You fucked the counselor!” 

“For the love of god, I told you a THOUSAND times we didn’t fuck that night!” Yuuri rolled his eyes, drying a remaining tear, and trying to gather the will to sound convincing “We just lied on the sofa and watched The Grinch movie!” 

“Watching The Grinch, having sex…what’s the difference?” Phichit joked, sitting on the counter, and looking at Yuuri kneel to put some skates on the lower shelves “Seriously, when are you two going to admit you are head over heels for each other?” 

“I don’t think he’s in love with me, Phichit”

Yet, his friend wasn’t having it. And he was so done with the situation overall. 

“Didn’t he say he was “fond” of you?? In my language, that means love” 

“I don’t even know if he meant that, you know? Like, maybe he just said it so that I feel better about myself”

“Are you being serious right now??”

“Just think about it! Maybe he wouldn’t even care about me if he weren’t my counselor…”

“You are infuriating” 

“And you are immature” He looked up at him, fixing his glasses and getting back to work “Even if he really liked me, why would he be in love with me? He’s the counselor! He had seen quite horrible sides of my personality; I think he’s the last person that would fall for me” 

Phichit was about to have a fit, when he was suddenly interrupted by the loud voice of the radio’s announcer, cutting off through one of the songs:

_**“Now and only now! The first person to call will have TWO free tickets to see the fantastic The King and the Skater 2 movie! Only ONE fortunate caller will have the chance of…”** _

“HAND ME THE FUCKING PHONE!” 

“Where is it!??” 

“Inside my bag!! Hurry, hurry!!!” 

Yuuri tried to stand up so quickly he bumped his head against the counter.

“Jesus fuck!” But there was no time for pain, so he did his clumsy efforts at grabbing Phichit’s phone from inside his bag, and threw it to him in about half a second before he could acknowledge the ache “Come on! Call!” 

“That’s what I’m fucking doing!!!” He screamed, pressing the numbers the announcer dictated at the speed of light, grateful of his Olympic texting skills more than ever, and placing the speaker on his ear “Please answer, please answer, please answer…” 

_“Hello??”_

When the announcer’s voice sounded both at the radio and the phone, they almost lost their shit. 

“Hello!!” Phichit screamed, almost deafening the poor man, and probably half of the radio-listening population.

_**“Easy there! What’s your name, young man?”** _

“I’m Phichit Chulanont!” 

Yuuri couldn’t believe he was actually listening to the echo of his friend’s voice coming from the radio. It was so odd, like he were witnessing an historical event! 

_**“Well, Phichit, you have just won two ticket’s to watch The King and the Skater 2!”**_ They couldn’t believe their ears _**“What do you think? Are you a big fan?”**_

The shriek he proceeded to voice was in no way masculine. 

The announcer almost asked him if he was in fact a woman. 

After he was given the indications about where to pick up the tickets and all, Phichit ended the phone call and turned to look at his friend with an expression of solemn disbelief, and it wasn’t until Yuuri started maniacally screaming that he finally let out an overly-powered yell and threw himself on top of the other to squeeze him against the corner in some weird euphoria sandwich.

“HOLY SHIT YOU WERE ON THE RADIO!!” Yuuri shouted, jumping to relieve excitement as best as he could between the tight embrace “YOU WERE ON THE DAMN RADIO OH MY GOD!” 

“Is that all you are excited about?? I HAVE TWO FREE TICKETS FOR MY FAVORITE MOVIE HOLY SHIT!” 

“Yes you do!” He nodded eagerly, letting go of the fangirl hug, since he realized he may look like some twelve year old on the line to a Taylor Swift recital “Who are you going to take with you??” 

Phichit arched a brow, seemingly offended, wrinkling his nose with disenchantment. 

“Uhm…you???” He said, as if it were the most obvious fact. 

And it was the most obvious fact, even if the guy was too oblivious to accept it. 

“Me??” 

“Who else???” Phichit nagged “You are my best friend???” 

Yuuri’s eyes popped out, still and silent, a mute gasp stuck through his pared lips. 

There was a warm, intimate sensation forming at the depths of his gut. A kind warmness, silky and soothing, like the generous heat of a fireplace. It wasn’t that rough, cold burning he got with anxiety, that mouthful of liquid nitrogen that came with distress and anguish, scorching, peeling his entrails and frosting his chest. No, this was nothing alike. These were gentle, comforting waves of warmth, spreading slowly through his body, his cheeks, his stomach, his soul. His shoulders flinched, getting used to the new temperatures, trying to adapt to that unknown feeling of affection. 

It was so easy.

Grabbing the old rag and getting back to work, continuing with the polishing of the hundred and twenty-two pairs of skates, Yuuri smiled. He smiled as warmly as ever, so fondly and tenderly, engulfing in the new found heat of acceptance, of closeness, of love…as he repeated over and over inside his head:

_“I have a best friend”_

“And then dad was like “Sir, this is a familiar hotel, you can’t go around the hallways dressed like THAT” and the client was so angry I swear!” Mari told the story in luxurious detail, waving her hands, imitating the voices and expressions, and she had her little brother tearing up with laughter at the other side of the table “He kept screaming stuff like “I’m going to make this hotel close!” and “This is a violation to my freedom of expression!” And mom was like: “you can keep the bib but PLEASE cover the thong!” I swear I don’t know what the hell was that man into” 

Yuuri’s laughter, which he discovered to be quite ridiculous and embarrassing, sounded like the slaughtering of a pig, and he tried to muffle the sound by hiding his face on his arm against the table. People at the ice cream store were beginning to look at him funnily but, apart from stupid, his laughter was apparently somehow contagious, and it had half of the witnesses beginning to chuckle lowly too. 

“You can’t be serious!” He cried, snorting against his hand “What happened next??” 

“I don’t know, he left, dressed like that and all, and never came back again” 

“I can’t picture dad’s face, he’s so old-style I swear I can’t even imagine it!” 

“It was something like this” Mari outlined a brutal face of disgust, but had to cut it out because she was also beginning to crack up at the sound of her brother’s laugh “I should have record it, damn” 

Yuuri’s chuckles faded slowly into a giggle, and within some minutes he was back into his senses. He loved those afternoons spent with his sister, usually Saturdays, since it was one of the days both of them had free time. They always found something to do, like watching a movie at the cinema, odd places to eat at, or once he even took her skating to the Ice Castle (which, of course, ended up in injuries and disaster). This time, Mari had found this really bizarre ice cream shop at the other end of town. They had to take two buses to get there, and walk quite a lot, but April was just around the corner, and the weather was fine and gentle enough for them to enjoy. They had even chosen a small table outside, since there was a really nice breeze, and a beautiful park right in front which made the sight worthy. Plus, the shop was actually amazing, with the rarest of flavors and the chance to decorate with as much candy as preferred. 

Yuuri was taking a spoonful of popcorn flavored ice cream covered in blue sprinkles to his mouth, when his phone suddenly started buzzing. He fished it out from his pocket, kind of hurriedly, and he took the spoon from between his lips, smiling, as soon as he saw the caller’s ID.

“Viktor!” He picked up, overjoyed, as if he hadn’t seen the man just two days ago “Hi!” 

_“Hello dear, how have you been?”_ Viktor sounded so content, too. And it had Yuuri dropping his spoon into his neglected dessert, attention fully set on the other’s voice _“Are you doing fine?”_

“Yeah, I’m good! Having some ice cream with my sister…hey! I need to take you here! They have the coolest flavors! There’s even vodka flavor! We need to try that one!” 

His sister couldn’t listen to the other end of the conversation, just the faint, scratchy mumbles the phone allowed, which she assumed was a masculine laughter. 

_“Seriosuly?? Take care boy, I don’t want you in an ice cream-induced alcoholic coma”  
_

He laughed, he laughed so purely, so merrily, playing with the plastic of his cup absent-mindedly, not even realizing he was about to brake it.

“Shut up, you idiot” He giggled “Why are you calling, anyways?” 

_“You and I, dinner, my apartment, eight o’clock, I cook. How does it sound?”_

“Everything was fine until you said you would cook” 

Mari was amazed, watching his brother speak so naturally, so comfortably, after so many years of seeming phobic to the sound of his own voice. She had also heard him talk with Phichit quite jaunty in other occasions, but never like this. He sounded assertive, overly-confident, even seductive. What was this side of him and who had awakened it?

_“Fine, you caught me there, I’ll order food…rude though!”_

“I wouldn’t say rude, but realistic” 

_“You are hurting me, I’ll need a counselor”_

“Cry me a river, I won’t be eating something you cooked ever again. I almost died the last time” Both of them chuckle, their laughter echoing at both the speakers and their chests, engulfing in a short moment of silence, the comfortable interference of the call, before Yuuri spoke again “I’m kind of feeling like Chinese takeout though” 

_“Chinese takeout will be, then”_

They both smiled, and they both knew the other was smiling, and so they smiled a bit more.

“Great, I’ll get us dessert” Yuuri said, trusting his patisserie skills much more than Viktor’s “See you tonight” 

_“See you!”_

He ended the phone call with his lip between his teeth, biting a content grin, way too submerged in the news. His mind kept wondering on what was he going to bake, organizing his schedule so that he had time to shower before heading to Viktor’s. Maybe, if he was quick, he could prepare the dough and shower while it heated up in the oven. Or maybe he could prepare some pudding, that was quicker, oh no, but it needed some hours in the refrigerator before being served…

The first sign to bring him back to reality was a cold drop in his hand, which it took him some few seconds to understand it was his melting dessert, and that he probably should finish eating it. The second sign was when he saw his sister’s cup, already empty, while his was still half full. How much time had he been talking with Viktor, thinking about the date (date?), and outside his actual map of existence? The third sign was much more blunt and obvious, with Mari looking at him with her eyebrows raised all the way too her hairline and smirking playfully. 

“Who was that?” She asked, leaning across the table “My my, Yuuri, do you have a boyfriend?” 

“What? No!” The fact he was red to the tip of his ears didn’t help “He’s my counselor!” 

“Your counselor?” 

“Yeah, he’s a nice man. He’s the one who helped me that day I got sick at the bar, and he also took me to that skating show I wanted to watch, and he’s really cool and supportive and he has a poodle that looks just like Vicchan!” 

If Yuuri had been able to see himself, speaking so happily and bright-eyed, he would have understood that pleased look in Mari’s eyes. 

“Can I see a picture of him?” She asked 

“Uhm, sure. Wait” 

He grabbed his phone, searching for Viktor’s Instagram, and chose what he thought was the most suitable photo. 

“Not the dog, you idiot!” She pushed Makkachin’s picture away “Your counselor!” 

“Oh” 

Yuuri coughed, almost choking on his ice cream, as he looked for his favorite picture. Yes, he had a Viktor favorite picture. Was it that weird? It shouldn’t be weird, I mean, he did look really good in that photo. He was wearing a striped shirt, kind of lose, since it fell from one shoulder, and he was lying on the sofa next to his dog, winking at the camera like the diva he naturally was. Mari stared at the picture thoroughly, rubbing her chin, as if she were making the most complicated of analyses, until she finally concluded: 

“Fuck him” 

Yuuri almost swallowed the spoon.

“What??” 

“He’s hot as hell! Fuck him Yuuri! You won’t have a chance like this in years!” She exclaimed, pointing at the phone, and giving a new reason for everyone around to stare at their table “Look at him! He’s eye candy!” 

“Mari what the fuck!! He’s my counselor!!” 

“And he’s sexy! If you don’t want him I’ll take him…”

“What!? No!” 

“Ahh, see? You got jealous!” 

Yuuri felt like he really needed some of that vodka ice cream. 

“You are insane” He whined, covering his face. 

“He invited you to his apartment! Does he live alone?”

“Yeah…” 

“He wants the D” The poor boy didn’t know where to hide from the shame anymore. Apparently, his own hands weren’t a good hide n seek spot “Yuuri don’t be rude, give him the D” 

“Can you…shut up for a little while? I think I’m going to have a stroke” 

Mari laughed, taking advantage of her broken brother and stealing his remaining ice cream.

“I’m just being logical, baby bro” She shrugged, taking a spoonful to her mouth “Just follow your sis’s advice”

“What?? No way!! Michele???” Yuuri gasped, taking his hands to his cheeks in shock, only then realizing he was speaking with his mouth full “It can’t be true!!” 

“It is, I heard it from his sister”

“Sara??” Another dramatic wheeze “You counsel Sara Crispino??” 

Viktor chuckled, expertly maneuvering the chopsticks, since his retarded cooking stills had leaded him to Chinese restaurants in way too many occasions.

“Yeah, I’ve counseled almost everyone at school so far, even most of the teachers” He said, watching as Yuuri leaned over to casually clean some rice from his face. He couldn’t help it, he was a messy eater, and the boy was kind of neurotic “Don’t go around divulging this stuff though, those are supposed to be professional secrets”

“Oh? And why do I get to listen then?”

“You know you are special already” Viktor winked, balancing on his chair “You are V.I.P.” 

Yuuri kicked his chair, almost making him fall, and chuckling at the unattractiveness of the shriek he made. The best part of it, he thought, as he listened to the man complain on how he could have killed him and let Makkachin stray, was that he knew he was the only one who could see this side of him. Call him possessive, call him a fool or even a weirdo, but he loved that idiotic, clumsy side of Viktor. Mostly, he loved how he felt it belonged to him and only him. Once they were alone, behind closed doors, Mr.Nikiforov was long gone. By his side, Viktor was gawkier, childish, even dorky, and no way near to that elegant, flawless gentleman he had met at the gymnasium.

What he didn’t know though was that, by his side, Viktor was also unmeasurably happier. 

“Hey, it’s getting kind of chilly, isn’t it?” Yuuri asked, rubbing his uncovered arms, having forgotten about the evening’s temperature drops. 

“Are you cold?” The man grabbed him by the fingers, feeling them on his warm palm, and sulking as he noticed the slight goosebumps on his arm “I can lend you a sweater if you want” 

“Really? I don’t want to be a bother…” 

“Nonsense” Viktor shook his head, standing up from his seat and beginning to clear the table “Go grab one from my room, I’ll start with the washing up” 

“Thank you so much” He said, looking for the only door in the house he had never opened yet “I’ll come to help you right away!” 

“It’s the third draw from the white dresser!” 

He nodded rhetorically, since he was already away from his sight, adventuring himself through the mysterious wonderland that was that man’s bedroom. He didn’t have any bizarre expectations, honestly, the rest of the house was simply modern and minimalistic. But there was just something so intimate about getting into his room, something private; that just like the inepter side of Viktor’s personality, he was warmly enjoying. 

Hurriedly yet carefully, not wanting to leave the other alone cleaning for too long nor accidentally break something in the speeding process, he found the said white dresser and stole a thick and cozy light-blue sweater. And, not before confirming Viktor was still in the kitchen after hearing the clumsy sound of clashing cutlery, he sunk his nose in the hem and gave it a good sniff. 

Did that made him creepy? 

As he looked at himself in the reflection of a full wall mirror, pink cheeked and crooked glasses, his pushed back hairdo beginning to revel against him because of the fact he had used water instead of gel, and not to mention the oversized stolen sweater…he didn’t look creepy. He looked comfortable. 

He looked like he belonged. 

Gazing around, he engulfed on the sight of the perfect imperfectness, the core of Viktor’s being, his personality crumpled between four walls. That’s what bedrooms were, right? A concentration of our order, our likes, our smell…you can learn a lot about someone by taking a peek at their crib. 

But the issue with Viktor’s room, was that Yuuri was already way too familiar with him. He knew everything about that man. So his room was not a revelation, but a confirmation of the things he already knew.

It was funny, because at first sight everything looked so polished and wonderful…until you noticed the concealed details. 

The bed seemed made, but if you looked closely, it was just the top quilt covering wrinkled sheets. There were some dirty clothes peeking from under the bed, hiding ashamedly, and shoes stuck behind the curtains. There were even still unopened boxes from the moving-in! But they were so neatly piled on the corners they were barely noticeable. One of them was even disguised as a table, with a lamp on top and everything. He didn’t really have much furniture, the room was spacious, so he got away with the trick. Did he really live alone in such a large apartment? 

His attention was caught by some pictures on top of the drawer. Yuuri didn’t know if it made him a stalker, but he actually loved watching others’ pictures, it was the first thing he ever did when he visited a house for the first time. 

There was one of a small Viktor, maybe around eight years old, with his shoulder-length hair flying around his head as he skated. He looked so majestic, even as a kid, it was ridiculous. Then there was bigger frame next, showing him in his adolescence, holding a medal and hugging his mother. Yuuri smiled affectionately, trailing his eyes through the long, messy silver locks, and the pure expression of joy on his young face. The last one was present timed, so he really didn’t pay much attention. His hair looked shorter, maybe he had just cut it…it looked fancy. He was at a really nice park, with the colors of autumn flying around, holding Makkachin to his chest and looking at the camera. Yet, it was an ordinary picture, and Yuuri was about to pass by it…

Until he noticed something. 

With trembling fingers, he grabbed the photo and pressed it close to his face, watching thoroughly, eyes nailed to the image.

In a fragment of second, the picture blurred. 

There was no more park, no more autumn leaves falling, no more fancy haircut, and no more Makkachin between his arms. No landscape, no man, no face, no crystalline blue eyes.

All he could see, as he hard Viktor calling him from the kitchen and felt his fingers growing numb around the frame, was a certain jacket.

A way too familiar jacket, hanging from the man’s shoulders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't kill me.
> 
> But you can tell me I'm a piece of shit in the comments :D
> 
> AAAA WE ARE REACHING THE END OF THE STORY!!!!


	9. Do not mess with Yuuri Katsuki

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm actually really happy with this chapter XD I hope you are able to forgive how long it's taking me to write...I just have lots of studying to do.

What’s love, even? 

Yuuri didn’t know, he had not the faintest clue. And just like Viktor had taught him whenever he felt anxious and answerless: when you don’t know something, the best is to start listing the things you DO know.

Love wasn’t a word. 

Yuuri may not have been the best with language, but he wasn’t inept enough to assume there was a unique, proper definition for something like love. He knew, out from mere experience, that no matter how many times you rolled the lyrics to those melodic syllables through your tongue, it made no effect whatsoever in healing a broken heart. 

Love wasn’t a feeling.

It was more like an illness, a combination of symptoms, diverse and odd signs under a pretty title. It wasn’t just a feeling, it was plenty of them, in no specific order or intensity, jumping, flying, swirling around in no direction. There were so many different mixtures, so many blended sensations under the same lettering, Yuuri wondered how could someone ever be so certain about labeling anything as “love”. 

Love wasn’t the opposite to sorrow. 

Love could hurt, love could really, really hurt. Because love could never be found on its purest, absolute state. Love always came threaded with something else, let it be anguish, jealousy, anger…misery was the other face of the same coin, an undeniable piece of the so called perfection. It carried memories, it carried it all, from illusion to disillusion, to the smell of perfume and the sound of a voice. Love forgot no details. Its hurricanes would blow and unearth the oldest and most neglected of feelings, it would push and twirl them around, unify them, make them whole. 

Love was an illusion.

Love was whatever you wanted it to be, love was no solid fact but liquid, elusive, taking the shape of the mold in which was poured, just like water. And, just like water, love was indispensable. We needed love, we needed its comes and goes, its warmness, its madness, and even its raging grief. We needed something, anything, of any form or shape, to discharge our love into. It was dangerous to carry lose, liquid love inside the soul. There had to be a someone, a somewhat, a nothing, we could frame our feelings into. The figure of the “loved one”, was everything we wanted love to be. 

Love was a whim. 

And Yuuri’s whim, was nothing but V’s jacket. 

After so many excuseless years, after so much time of carrying acid, brute love inside of him, he had finally found a tailpipe. That mysterious, oh so flawless gentleman, charming prince of his own drunkard story. His figure, lax and loose by alcohol, was much easier to shape at Yuuri’s will. He had imagined the scenario, and he had reimagined it, about a hundred and one times. He had invented an infinite amount of possibilities of what had happened that night, all of them wonderful, all of them flawless, all of them helping him survive the chills of loneliness that stroke him day by day. 

V was perfect.

But love wasn’t perfect. 

And so wasn’t the truth. 

“Yuuri! Are you in there?” The truth knocked on the door, opening it slowly, giving a step inside with his double knotted shoes “Is everything ok? I’m almost done with the washing up, don’t you want some dessert?” 

Yet, Yuuri’s answer was neither yes nor no, in fact, it wasn’t even the answer to the same question. It was the reply for another inquiry, one that had nothing to do with dirty plates or desserts, but a doubt he had been asking himself for way too many months already. 

“You are V” 

Viktor arched a brow, painfully oblivious.

“What? I don’t understand…are you ok?” He got closer, taking a glimpse at the photo in his hands “What are you looking at?” 

“The jacket” He said, his emotions cancelling into numbness.

“Jacket? What are you talking about?” The man was getting nervous, unused to seeing that null look in his eyes, so empty, so lifeless; those eyes weren’t supposed to get lost in anything but Viktor’s own “What jacket?” 

“The one that’s now hanging in my closet” 

Have you seen how people sometimes make pebbles skip on water? Bounce a few times against the surface, tasting the waters, until it finally sinks? Well, Viktor’s realization was no skipping pebble, but a homerun into the depths of underwater, merciless and brute, cutting through liquid with the force of a meteorite. 

“Oh” 

He had a full discourse prepared for this situation. He had thought, rethought, and thought it once again, as he rolled beneath the sheets of his bed during sleepless nights. Paranoia was the perfect planner. He had covered any possible outcome, every possible reaction, he had thought about how to calm the guy down if he had a rage quit, he had thought of what to say in his defense if he got offended, or even what comforting words he could apply to an hypothetical wound. He had thought it all, every circumstance, every expression; he had trained himself to undergo the worst. 

But if there was something he hadn’t prepared himself for, was Yuuri’s numbness. 

He didn’t react. His eyes didn’t glint, nor pop out, nor cry. His lips didn’t sob, nor crook, nor shout. His voice didn’t hitch, nor crack, nor rise. He just stood still, staring at the picture, stunned and motionless, like the first few seconds after waking up from a dream. 

“Listen, Yuuri, I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you but…are you ok? Do you want to sit down? You look kind of…” 

“Did we have sex?” 

Viktor gulped, trying to digest the question, but it was hard when it felt like he had been forced to swallow. 

“No, we didn’t” He reached the bed since, apparently, it was him who needed to sit down “You were…really wasted, and I just couldn’t let myself do-”

“We made out?” 

His voice seemed mechanical, dead of any emotion, like his body had entered some kind of autopilot, and all it could do was gather information. 

Viktor couldn’t stand it. 

If there was something he had grown to adore about Yuuri, was how he expressed his emotions. At first, he had taken it upon himself to see that boy smile every single day for the rest of his life. But at some point he had realized there was a whole, wide palette of emotions that guy hadn’t experienced. Thousands of blushing shades, a million temperatures of anger, infinite volumes of laughter… Yuuri used to dull himself as not to feel anything at all. 

And Viktor had been working so hard for so many months to unwrap his heart from all that tedium, to make him shout, cry, gasp, chuckle, dance, feel, live. He wanted him to live. And he had seen the products of his hard work, he had seen him smiling until his cheeks hurt, he had seen him choke on his own tears, he had seen him skate unashamedly in front of him, dancing, giving everything on the ice…

And now, all of a sudden, it was gone. 

All of those feelings, all of those emotions, all of that Yuuri…had been mercilessly unrooted. 

“I was the one to ask you for a dance, because you looked stunning and I couldn’t help myself. And yes, we made out after that. You took me to an empty corner and we kissed quite a lot” He gave a long sigh, massaging his temples “Then we went outside for some fresh air, and we talked for a while before your alarm went off, and you left” 

Viktor was naturally a very touchy-feely person, so he wasn’t really thinking when he grabbed Yuuri by the wrist and pulled him to the edge of the bed, holding his hands in his, playing with his fingers, as a way to relieve tension. He knew he shouldn’t have to, since the guy was probably uncomfortable and didn’t want to be touched right then, but he couldn’t really help it. He was selfish like that. 

Yet, Yuuri seemed too gone to even mind. He wasn’t even looking at him, but repeatedly gazing backwards, looking for the picture of the jacket that was back on top of the dresser. 

“Are you mad at me?” Viktor asked, his thumb shaking as it stroked the other’s palm. He received no answer “Yuuri?” 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” 

Viktor gripped his hand tighter, wanting to keep him from walking away, but all he got was Yuuri averting his hands, giving a step back. 

“I...I don’t know” He did know, he had been terrified of losing him. And he still was “I felt that being your counselor I would make you a greater good than if I just…” He couldn’t finish the sentence “I just wanted you to be happy”

Instinctively, he reached a hand over Yuuri’s waist, just to keep him close, but he was pushed away once again. 

“Don’t lie to me”

“No, boy! I would never lie to you! I…” 

“Do you love me?” 

The question was so terse, so direct, with those eyes staring at him from above, freezing cold, so aloof from Viktor’s burning heart. He never thought that question would be able to feel so wrong, so revolted. That’s no how he had imagined things to be.

“Yes” He said, swallowing a sob “I love you, Yuuri” 

And he meant it, he meant every single word, every syllable, every letter. He meant the tears glazing his eyes, he meant the cracking of his voice and the trembling of his hands. He meant it, wholeheartedly. He loved that boy above anything he had loved in such a long time. 

Yet, the other kept silent, staring at him expressionless, driving Viktor insane and winding up his tongue:

“Look, if you are going to snap at me then better do it now, because I don’t know if I can’t take your indifference anymore and I just-”

But the words were brusquely shoved down his throat, pushed through his lips and back inside, by the sudden pressure of Yuuri’s mouth on his. 

He almost choked on his shock. 

Only then he noticed the sinuous hand sliding through the back of his neck, the looming figure of the body above him, the warm breathe of the other’s nose against his cheek. It didn’t give him time to react, not even to acknowledge the happenings. Neither his heart had the time to flutter, nor his brain to reach conclusions and be able to formulate the term “kiss”. 

For him, the experience were five full seconds of numbness, of nonexistence, of a foreign, rumbling feeling in his mouth, like having something stuck between his teeth.

By the time it ended, with Yuuri pulling away, he exhaled a full mouthful of air onto his face, the gathered proof that he had forgotten how to breathe. 

“So you genuinely cared about me all this time?” 

“Uh?” Was all he was able to answer, still in daze. 

“Your kindness, everything you’ve been doing for me…wasn’t just because you were my counselor?” He pressed his forehead onto his, melting their gazes together, stroking his neck, jaw and cheeks, making him feel like he weighted a load against the bed “Was it because you love me?” 

Viktor nodded, closing his eyes, so overwhelmed by the other he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to speak if he kept looking. 

“Of course” He blew out, hugging the other by the waist and pulling him close, resting his face on his stomach by making him stand between his knees “Of course, Yuuri, I care about you since day one” 

Yuuri played with his hair, smiling, crooking his body on top of his to embrace him from above. But Viktor didn’t let it last, he reached for the back of his head and pulled him down, to have his face on his same level. He felt the weight of the other’s hands against the mattress on either side of his body, caging him, and oh gosh he never, _ever_ wanted to be set free. 

“You care…” The boy repeated, rather to himself, feeling his cheeks beginning to heat up.

“Oh? Are you blushing? Are you embarrassed?” Viktor smirked “Don’t chicken now, please. I liked where this was going…” 

Yuuri flicked his forehead and snorted uncomfortably, looking away. 

“I just kissed my counselor, that’s embarrassing enough”

A large, gentle hand grabbed him by the face, and forced him to reassert the eye contact. 

“Do you regret it?” 

“I don’t think so” He snickered, nerves and desire all bubbling at his gut, his eagerness reaching boiling point “What about you? 

Viktor smiled, seeing the wholesome insecurities, the shyness, all clogged inside those brown eyes. So close, so big, that all he could see right then was what they reflected. The world, his world, had become whatever those eyes chose to mirror. And he saw himself, his own eyes, lidded and tired, but shinier than they had been in a really, really long time.

He was totally aware of the misdeeds they were committing, yet he was also totally indifferent. 

“Not a single bit”

This time, when Yuuri kissed him, he was in his fullest of senses. He was able to savor it, enjoy it at its finest, let his body torture him with the overdose of endorphins and adrenaline, as he grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him close, closer, the closest he could. Something had clicked inside of him, something had just been let lose. Like he had been refraining himself from a need; thirst, hunger, sleep, all together, had been finally satisfied, fed to him through his touch. His soul was itching, and he had finally been scratched. 

Ha had been waiting all that time, imagining, wishing to repeat the events of that night at The Madmen Cage. 

And yet, that kiss was nothing alike. 

He wasn’t kissing Eros, mysterious entity of seduction, eternal king of the dancefloor and the rare, hard figurine of the collection everyone wanted to get a grasp on. No, he was kissing Yuuri Katsuki; nineteen years of shyness and awkwardness condensed into a body, about a thousand of pork cutlet bowls digested, sassy jokes that made him feel embarrassed afterwards, heavy drinking, pig-like laughter, bizarre playlist on his cellphone that went from Rhianna to Bach, figure skating obsession, dull fashion sense, and quite a sensitive temper. He was kissing Yuuri Katsuki, and he was in love.

He wanted him to feel that love. 

He wanted the guy to realize just how much he had been waiting for that moment, pushing pride aside, he wanted him to know he was desperate. So he kissed him passionately, thoroughly, taking his time to enjoy every reaction, every contact of their skins, every sound their made, from the sighs and heavy breaths to the sloppy clashing of lips. He wanted to feel it all.

Yuuri was stunned, drove by his impulses, still oblivious to his own actions. He couldn’t believe he wasn’t at his room, curled around the jacket, immersed in a way too factual fantasy. Maybe that was part of the reason he had lost his inhibition, alcohol wasn’t necessary when you were under the effects of shock. And right then, with Viktor’s mouth playing so gently with his own, with cold hands stroking his neck and his hair, and with his heart beating so dangerously fast he thought it might burst…he never wanted to be sober again. 

So, using that unconsciousness to his favor, he smirked into the kiss, adding his tongue to the blend, and sitting on top of the other’s lap. 

Viktor was surprised, yet definitely not disappointed. He instinctively took his hands to his hips, pulling him close and stroking the small of his back. Yet, he didn’t equally respond to the making out, since he was still hesitant, and he was afraid to force the boy into something he didn’t want to do. So he just let himself surrender to the other’s will, titling his head backwards, completely delegating command. 

Yuuri used both of his hands to gently move Viktor’s face, maneuvering the kiss. He wasn’t complaining about having all the control, but the lack of response was making him kind of insecure. Was there something wrong? Wasn’t he doing a good job? It had been some time since the last time he made out with someone…was he a bad kisser? His qualms must have been displayed in his performance, since next thing he knew Viktor’s hands were on his cheeks and softly pulling him away. 

“Uh?” Yuuri tried to catch his breath “What’s wrong?” 

“I’m the one who should be asking that” Soft hands tugged a lock of messy, dark hair behind his ear “Don’t force yourself, dear, you don’t have to prove anything” 

“And you don’t have to protect me” That definitely took Viktor off ward “Now of all moments, you don’t have to play the role of the counselor. I can take care of myself, and I know what I want”

The man grinned in approbation, pleased with all that new resolve and confidence, and whispered against his tingling mouth.

“What do you want, then?” 

The answer came in the form of another brusque kiss, hands grabbing him from the collar of his shirt and legs tangling around his waist. 

This time, Viktor didn’t hold back. 

He threw himself back against the mattress, taking the other’s body with his, and used the surprised gasp he offered to return the tongue play. Yuuri didn’t stay behind though, diverting one of his hands from the man’s hair and onto his waist, playing with the hem of his shirt and stroking the skin underneath. 

When, by a not so accidental accident, their pelvises brushed together, they both let go of the other’s mouth and grunted, being all the proof they needed to become aware of the other’s lust (and also their own). Viktor didn’t have an outcome of preference right then, just having him close was enough for him, but he wasn’t really sure he’d be able to say the same thing if they kept spicing things up. So he took that moment as a chance to lock eyes with him, look for any insecurities, any regrets, just in case he wanted to leave it there. But that didn’t seem to be the case.

Yuuri rolled his eyes, affectionately, unused and kind of ignorant regards matters of consent. Oh boy, if only that man knew how long he had been waiting for that moment. How much he had been craving, daydreaming, fantasizing. He wasn’t afraid of his desire, just as he wasn’t afraid of showing it. He was experienced on the matter, he had been in many risqué situations way too many times in his life (with some vodka in between, of course) and this shouldn’t be any different.

Then, why did it felt so different? 

Why, when Viktor proceeded to sweetly peck his lips, did his face heat up so much? Why did the brush of fingers under his shirt, although innocent and futile, managed to draw him goosebumps? Why couldn’t he catch his breath if they had barely started? Why was his heart beating so damn fast?

Whoever talked about butterflies inside the stomach was surely an airhead. When Viktor reached for his lips again, merging their mouths in a warm, slow and loving kiss, the butterflies weren’t just in his stomach, but had flew and taken all over his body; his chest, his throat, his ears, his legs, the tip of his fingers, his all. He felt like he was going to burst, explode into a cloud of those minuscule butterflies, disappearing into the other’s hold. 

Hands wandered everywhere, slowly, exploring new paths and soils, seeding them with caresses and tickles. Lips clashed, played, nipped and pecked, they explored, traveled through jaws, throats, shoulders, ears and noses. They took pauses, maybe to whisper something, maybe to giggle with joy, or maybe just because they needed to simply smile, show the other just how content they were, flash their bliss and their delight. 

Yuuri still wasn’t sure of what love was.

Yet, somehow, it didn’t seem so foreign anymore.

So when Viktor turned them around, looming over him against the bed, and after a quick kiss on his forehead asked: “May I make love to you?” Yuuri had no doubts.

He nodded, hugging him tight, wanting to sink further into the mattress, enter a remote, cozy reality where all that really existed were him, Viktor and that bed. He was happy, he was so ridiculously happy, stunned, overwhelmed by the other. Viktor was making sure he felt as loved and as cherished as possible, not making any movement until he got his approval, since he wanted him to feel that, this time, it wouldn’t be like the other times. This time, he mattered. This time, he had to feel good too. This time he was going to be heard, listened and payed attention to. This time, it had to be special. 

“Look who’s blushing now” Yuuri chuckled, unbuttoning the other’s shirt to reveal quite a flushed chest. 

“Sorry” He laughed back “I didn’t think you’d take such initiative” 

“Is that bad?” 

“No, it’s hot” 

They kissed again, giggling into each other’s mouths, parting only so that Yuuri could take off his shirt and the oversized stolen sweater. Now, when it was time to unbuckle belts, none of them wanted to make a move. Being it because of shyness, shame, or fear of scaring the other away, neither of them dared to take a hand to the other’s pants. And they were totally aware of their cowardice, but preferred to pretend they didn’t notice. They distracted themselves with kisses and caresses, with Viktor sitting on Yuuri’s lap and sucking at his neck, trying to redraw that beautiful mark he had left him back at The Madmen Cage. One of them was going to surrender at some point, they thought, so they made their best to provoke the other and make them take the initiative. Yet, all they managed to achieve were ragged breathes and lots of hickeys.

It was Yuuri, surprisingly, who first got the courage to pull the other’s pants down. Not his briefs, since he was still trying to get used to the idea of the naked torso, and he didn’t want to give himself a stroke. However, as he found a positive response from his partner, he allowed himself to rub him a bit, explore the area, and engage in some foreplay activity he had never really experienced. He never thought it could be so satisfying to simply please the other. It was nice, extremely awkward, but nice. He learnt Viktor was kind of vocal, and that his skin was so pale it flushed a lot when he got aroused, and he looked really beautiful. 

Pleasure was contagious, apparently.

As he finally ventured to take his hand under the briefs, the man sighed and rested his head on the crook of his neck, which Yuuri took as a chance to kiss his shoulder and throat, and moaned a little bit himself because of the buckling against his own crotch.

“Mhhm, wait” Viktor hummed against him, standing up from the bed to take his pants off completely, and walking towards one of the boxes in the corner of the room. 

“What is it?” 

“We’ll need this” He unpacked a white shoebox, and opened it to show condoms, a bottle of lube and some few toys he really wasn’t planning to use that day.

Yuuri chuckled, embarrassed.

“You haven’t unpacked that till today?” He teased, as Viktor climbed on top of him once again.

“Hmm, I was busy seducing you”

“Yeah, sure” They kissed once more, and Yuuri would have kept on mocking, if it wasn’t for the sudden hands beginning to tug at his pants. 

“Is it ok?”

“Of course” 

In no time, they were both completely nude, kissing slowly, making quick, curious expeditions through the other’s body. Being their first time together, they really didn’t know what the other was like. Especially Yuuri, who had never been in such an intimate situation. His previous encounters had lacked any kind of preparations, so he wasn’t familiar with foreplay. And Viktor knew that, so he made sure to make the experience as loving and comfortable as possible.

When he grabbed two condoms, however, Yuuri looked at him strange.

“Hey, I know I’m kind of promiscuous, but I don’t think there’s need too…” 

“Relax, I don’t think you have AIDS” Viktor said “It’s just so that we don’t make a mess” 

“Oh…”

Well, to have someone put a condom on him, was an undeniably uncomfortable involvement. Yuuri blushed a furious shade of red when he admitted he hadn’t really used one before, and it took him a while to become responsive and calm again after such mortification. It was also the first time someone used lubricant on him, he had never been prepared so thoroughly, and his thankfulness wasn’t enough to make up for his bashfulness.

“There’s no reason to be ashamed” Viktor tried to soothe him, yet he wasn’t able to look at him in the eye as he fingered him “We are grown men, aren’t we?” 

“Yeah…” 

Yeah…that didn’t cancel the shame though.

Maybe that moment of uncomfortableness was what turned him a bit off, and made the actual penetration a bit more complicated than expected. It went well, though, very carefully from Viktor’s side, yet it took a while for the guy to get used to the feeling of sex without alcohol in blood. They kept it simple and gentle, not wanting to complicate things on their first time together, since they were barely getting to know each other’s bodies.

Yuuri looped his legs around his waist, pulling him close, kissing his chest and every corner of skin he could reach. He enjoyed that short moment of thrusting, the feeling of comfort that his partner’s body brought rocking against his own. It was so intimate, so carnal, to have the other’s face buried in his throat, leaving wet, sloppy kisses, tangling his limbs with his own, grabbing his hands, pressing them whenever he gave a good thrust.

Viktor came first, moaning softly in his ear, with his whole body pressed against his. Meanwhile, Yuuri mindlessly stared at the ceiling, dazed, face damp and hair a mess, trying to catch his breath as the other clenched around him. He listened to the buzzing hum of silence, after his ears had gotten used to the constant sound of panting and low grunts, just like whenever he got out from the loud bar and his eardrums felt numb. 

They stood like that for a while, completely jumbled, not even knowing which limb belonged to who, caressing each other’s hair, until they gathered the energies to pull out. Viktor had to help Yuuri come afterwards, since he still hadn’t been able to finish, so he let him rub against him as they made out. Thanks to the condoms they didn’t really have much to clean, so they just threw themselves under the covers and cuddled in silence until they were able to gather their breaths and their thoughts again. 

“That was really nice” Yuuri grinned, stroking his partner’s cheek, enjoying how soft both the bedsheets and Viktor’s feet were. 

“Wonderful” He corrected, caressing the small of his back, and leaning in to peck his nose “You were lovely” 

He chuckled, looking away in embarrassment, but smiling fondly either way.

“You were, too”

“Next time will be even better” 

“Next time?” Yuuri snorted “I’m still not over this one, give me a break” 

“I’m sorry to inform you that now that I’ve tasted you there’s no turn back. I’m addicted” He joked “Say no to drugs, kids. And say no to Yuuri Katsuki”

“You are so corny” 

Yuuri was actually glad to hear that, to know the other would want a second time and wouldn’t forget about him now that he got into his pants. It was an irrational fear, he knew, but it was now safe to discard the option. So, when Viktor grinned at him, he returned the gesture tenderly, sharing a long, profound sigh, breathing each other’s air, and taking a taste of the other’s lungs.

He felt safe, he felt happy, and he certainly felt loved. 

What was love, even?

Yuuri had stopped wondering.

**“Uhm, Mari…I guess I won’t be sleeping home tonight. Tell mom and dad please”**   
_**✓Seen: 02:04 AM** _

**“Why? Are you ok?”**

**“Yeah…I kind of followed your advice (◕‿-)”**   
_**✓Seen: 02:07 AM** _

**“OH MY GOD YUURI WELL DONE”**

“…and then, when I woke up, he was still there with me, soundly asleep. And it was really nice to be cuddling and all but I really, REALLY needed to pee right then, and so I accidentally woke him up when I tried to stand up”

Phichit had to watch his friend speak through the cracked screen of his cellphone since, apparently, when he heard the news he fricking dropped it. He had woken up to a text message that said “guess where I am” with an attached photo of Yuuri’s and Viktor’s clothes (including underwear) all sprawled on the bedroom’s floor. Phichit wasn’t sure if the phone had really slipped, or if he had purposely threw it to the ground.

“I SWEAR I CAN’T BELIEVE WHAT I’M LISTENING“ Yuuri saw him fan his face with his hand and laughed “WHAT HAPPENED NEXT??” 

“Next? Nothing, really. We had breakfast together in bed, and talked a bit about what had happened and well… maybe kiss one or twice again”

“OH MY GOD, I’M DEAD! I TOLD YOUUU! I FRICKING TOLD YOU HE WAS V! I SAW IT COMING!! I FRICKING SAW IT COMING DAMN!” Phichit almost dropped the phone again as he saw the cheeky smile on the other’s face “Are you together now?? Are you like, a couple?? Please say yes” 

“I don’t think so, we haven’t talked about that yet” Yuuri laughed again, leaning back on his bed’s headboard, and making sure the earphones were properly plugged. He didn’t want his family to listen to his friend’s screams reacting to the “I had an adventure with the school’s counselor” story “But he kind of told me he loved me so…” 

He wasn’t sure if Phichit’s next screech had echoed through the earphones, or if it had somehow been loud enough to be heard through the whole neighborhood. 

“PHICHIT FOR THE LOVE OF GOD SHUT UP” Suddenly there was Arthit yanking the door open and entering the room, throwing something at his brother with enviable accuracy and hitting him right in the head “WHAT’S ALL THAT SCREAMING ABOUT??” 

“Ouch! Calm down! I’m talking to Yuuri and it’s EXTREMELY IMPORTANT” 

Yuuri chortled through the other end of the screen, trying to cover his snorting and waving.

“Hi Arthit” He greeted.

“Oh, hello Katsuki” Arthit waved back, since he actually liked Yuuri quite a lot. Ever since the party, he was always kind to him whenever he visited, and kept telling Phichit he should try being as cool as him…which was kind of rude “See, asshole? Your friend isn’t screaming like some little bitch!” 

As he left the room, with a rather loud bang on the door, he left his little sibling dealing with a head bump and a laughing Yuuri, who always found their arguments quite amusing.

“What did he throw at you??”

“A shoe” He said, showing a brown leather boot to the camera and tossing it back to the floor “Now, back to topic…was he good in bed?? Did he have a big…” 

“You are such a pervert oh my god! I’m not answering that!” 

“Hey, I’m just curious!” They both chuckled “Did you have a good time, at least?” 

“Yeah, maybe it wasn’t the most…perfect, erotic experience of my life but…it was really nice” Yuuri expounded, with neither grammar nor vocabulary on his side, since he had never really been good at expressing his emotions “I don’t know if I’m explaining myself, like, it wasn’t my first time, but it kind of felt like it? I mean, I had never cuddled with someone in that way, and no one had ever really been so cautious about not hurting me…I don’t want to give unnecessary details, but it was a new experience for me. I just hope Viktor honestly enjoyed it, though” 

Phichit smiled warmly, abandoning his mocking, buffoon role for a fragment of second, proud to see his friend had finally indulged himself, and fought for what he truly deserved: happiness. He was tired of his buts and maybes, of his excuses, of watching him sit and wait for life to pass him by. Now, for the first time, the guy had reached and grabbed what he wanted. And he was proud, so proud of him right then. 

As he saw him smile through the screen, eyes so bright and cheeks flushed pink, so full of himself and so empty of regrets… he knew that’s the way things were supposed to be.

“Oh my god, you are so sappy! I can’t help but imagining Viktor being as shook as you” 

“I don’t think so” Yuuri giggled, trying to think rationally “He used to have other partners, he’s really experienced already. I can’t really imagine him worrying about that kind of stuff, to be honest…”

“…AND I CAME FIRST, I FREAKING CAME FIRST! I’M SUCH A PREMATURE FAILURE! I WAS SUPPOSED TO SATISFY HIM…HE PROBABLY THINKS MY GAME IS WEAK AS FUCK NOW! I COULDN’T HELP IT, CHRIS! YOU SHOULD HAVE SEEN HIM, HE WAS SO GEORGEOUS!” 

Viktor walked around his apartment like a maniac, screaming at his phone, and making his dog awfully confused. 

“Don’t worry, Viktor, it happens” Christophe sighed, holding his phone between his ear and his shoulder, as he prepared the materials for the class on BSDM he was going to teach the next day “I’m more worried about the kid not being sure on how to put on a condom, I mean…didn’t he pay attention to my class?? I’m heartbroken”

“Chris! Listen to me!” Viktor whined, diving into the sofa and squealing against a cushion.

“I am listening. I just don’t think it’s such a big deal, it went well! Didn’t you say he looked happy the morning after? Was it awkward in anyway?” 

“No, it wasn’t awkward. In fact, we were really comfortable afterwards. But…”

“But…?” 

“I don’t know!” He rolled around on the sofa like a retarded kid “I feel like I just…failed him, or something!” 

“Failed him? What do you mean??” 

“Maybe he had higher expectations…”

“Viktor, for the love of porn” Chris massaged his temples, dropping his working material and focusing on his distressed friend “He’s a teenager! And quite a lonely, wary one whose previous sexual experience was limited to abuses on cars and public toilets! You are his first love, Viktor! He adores you! And while you are all petty and worried about something so trivial, he’s probably daydreaming and writing your name in his notebooks with little hearts”

Viktor sat down properly and replaced the cushion with Makkachin as the victim of his hugs, debating whether he should believe the man’s attempts of console, or stay true to his childish nature and continue with his tantrum. 

“You think so?” 

“Absolutely” Chris snickered “Weren’t you supposed to be the confident, sexy adult? You sound like a pubescent, get yourself together” 

“I am confident! And definitely sexy!” 

“Then what are you whining about?? You just had a really intimate moment with the guy you’ve been drooling about for months! Enjoy it!” 

Viktor blinked, curling into a ball and smiling against his dog’s fur. 

He let his mind wonder through the early memories of the previous night: Yuuri kissing him, caressing him, hugging him, that little nod he timidly did when he asked him for consent, his hands, his lips, his eyes, so big and so focused, absorbing his every reaction. His voice, damn, he’d been trying to recreate it inside his head for hours. But no matter how much he tried, no fantasize sounded like the real thing. The giggles, the sighs, the murmurs and whispers, the loving praising at the end. He wanted to see him like that, so bare and pure, so carnal, every day for the rest of his life. There was just something fleshly, instinctual, a vibration in his bones that came with the image of Yuuri in bed, tangled in his bedsheets, nude, that had Viktor’s zeal running wild. So sensual and private, the palpable embodiment of his desire; some ill branch of eroticism that had him craving to wrap himself in his skin. He wanted to live in an eternal loop of that sequence, from the first kiss to the next morning’s cuddling, the breakfast, Yuuri’s face stained with strawberry jam, taking bites of his toast and filling the bed with crumbs he still hadn’t bothered to clean. 

Viktor was cursed. 

And Viktor felt blessed. 

“You are right” He said, glazing at the coffee mugs, the two dirty coffee mugs, waiting for the washing up in the sink “You are totally right”

Monday was wonderful. 

Have you ever walked down the street while you listen to music? Have you ever seen the world change, morph, fall into the atmosphere the rhythm dictated? Have you ever got that feeling that the sun is shining and the flowers are blooming all because you are probably listening to some Lilly Allen song? Even though it’s raining outside? Even though your alarm went off late and you had to swallow your whole breakfast in a single mouthful? Even though the train you needed to take was in repair and you had to run all the way to school under the heavy thunderstorm? 

Have you ever musicalized the world around you…without music?

Never? 

Was it just Yuuri then? 

Yes, Monday was wonderful. Wonderful with its scary thunders, wonderful with the puddles soaking his shoes, wonderful with the wind that broke his umbrella and almost blows him away, wonderful even with the feeling of damp clothes sticking to his skin, and wonderful although knowing he had math class first thing in the morning. Yeah, life felt wonderful that morning. 

You know what else was wonderful? Viktor Nikiforov.

It was weird, he was aware of that. No one could believe his perfect, shiny mood that day as he walked into school leaking wet and with a destroyed umbrella. Not even Yuuri could believe it. If it had been a normal Monday, he would have debated letting himself get hit by a car a couple of times. But that wasn’t an ordinary Monday. That was a wonderful Monday. Just as wonderful as love. 

“You look ridiculously happy today” Even Leo pointed it out, as the group of friends shared a short chat before entering class.

“Oh, do I?” He shrugged it off, smiling, trying to fix his damp hair but pushing it back a bit “I hadn’t noticed” 

Of course, Phichit had to bite his tongue. And being the great friend he was, he even tried to take the conversation other way. 

“Yeah, maybe because prom is just around the corner!” He elbowed Yuuri, pointing at him “Don’t forget this oldie over here is graduating!”

“Ahh, congratulations Yuuri!” Guang-Hong clapped, politely “Are you excited? How is prom, even? I’m a first year and hand never been to one!” 

“Oh, ehm, I’ve never been to prom either. I missed it the previous years” He confessed. 

“Really?? Why?? It looks so fancy and lovely and…!” 

“Prom is shit” 

They didn’t even need to bat an eye to guess who had just said that comment.

“Why do you say that, Yurio?” 

“Are you serious?? It’s just retarded people spending retarded amounts of money on retarded dresses” The blond punk scoffed “And the music? Fucking disgusting” 

“What did we say about finding your inner voice, Yura?” Otabek snorted.

“Fuck my inner voice! Seriously, why does everyone care so much about that fucking party? Everywhere I look around there’s decorations and signs and shit! Who loses their fucking time like that?? And those bitches with those expensive-ass dresses like what the fuck?? Who wastes so much money in those ridiculous, pompous costumes?? They are all fucking horrible either way, freaking spoiled brats. And don’t even let me get started on the dancing because…” 

Yuuri rolled his eyes, already used to Yurio’s angry rants. And, although he found amusing the amount of times he could fit the word “fuck” into a sentence, after a while it began to feel like an aggressive, foul drilling into his brain. Just for mental health measures, it was better to turn a deaf ear every now and then.

He gave a long sigh, adverting his eyes to the hallway, looking for a distraction to both the punk’s potty mouth and the goosebumps beginning to form at his skin, product of his damp clothes. 

In just a fragment of seconds, Yurio’s voice was suddenly a distant murmur, and the freezing chills became trivial shivers, as he spotted a certain someone walking at the other end of the hall. 

Almost in slow motion, he saw Viktor walking towards his office, casually conversing with Chris, taking his gloves off and reaching to fix his rainy hair. Yuuri warmed up inside, feeling his chest whistling like a boiling kettle, as if steam were about to pour from his every ventricle. He felt special, blessed, watching him in such a natural ambience, so casual and public, inside the counselor costume once again. There was something magical about it, about seeing that role of his after having witnessed his intimacy. Like seeing Superman after meeting Clark Kent. He felt impish tickles inside his stomach, like those you get when you are the only one to know a secret, or when there’s a private joke only you understand. 

When Viktor’s eyes found his, suddenly whatever Christophe said was unimportant. He saw him there, damp wet, hugging his books and a broken umbrella against his chest, looking at him with those lovely brown eyes of his. Those eyes that had seen him from close, so close, staring directly into his soul, noses bumping, breathes mixing…and now, they were there, distant across the hallway, way too causal to feel real.

Viktor smiled, so dazed and gentle, mouthing a little “hey” without Christophe noticing, and accidentally bumping into a student out of mere distraction. Yuuri giggled, muffling the sound with his free hand and slyly waving at him, feeling his cheeks beginning to warm against the rain’s ruling cold.

“Hey Yuuri!” Leo brought him back to reality, making him unglue his eyes from the man, and dragging them back to the conversation “Are you listening?” 

“Oh, eh, sorry. Did I miss something?” 

Phichit observed how the guy’s gaze followed the counselor’s trace, artfully spying him as he entered his office. He bit his lip, restraining himself from making any comments, since he thought his friend wouldn’t be happy with the idea of the others understanding the situation. 

Yurio on the other hand, who had been the victim of Viktor’s love-stuck rants on Christmas day, was way too aware of way too many things, and wished he had missed that corny exchange just then. He wasn’t going to comment on it, though, since he had no real intention of ruining their lives and their newfound, disgusting love. But he really preferred to ignore it. 

The bell rang a while later, making the group disperse, each heading to their corresponding class. Yuuri didn’t really mind, although he wasn’t in the mood to do math. In fact, he was never in the mood to do math. But that day, his usual naps at math class didn’t sound as bad, since they mean he would have time to think about Viktor. And who knows? Maybe even fake some trouble and go visit him at his office. 

“ _When I see your face_ ” He hadn’t even noticed Phichit walking in the same direction as him “ _There's not a thing that I would change_ ”

He rolled his eyes, pretending annoyance, but he was kidding nobody. He loved it, he loved the comments about it, being made fun of, he loved being reminded that what happened on Saturday’s night hadn’t been just inside his head. It made it feel real. 

“ _Cause you are amazing_ ” He followed the lyrics, not really caring about the mockery “ _Just the way you are_ ”

They both continued singing, as always, complying with their routine, since random music seemed to have become their main way of communication. Their classes were almost next to each other, so they walked together absentmindedly, way too focused on Bruno Mars.

“ _And when you smile_  
 _The whole world stops and stares for a while_  
 _'Cause girl, you're amazing_  
 _Just the way you are_ ”

In fact, they were so focused, Yuuri ended up bumping into someone.

Apparently, Viktor wasn’t the only dreamy airhead.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, it was an accident” He blurted out, fixing his glasses.

Yet, as he looked upwards and met the other’s gaze, he realized it hadn’t been an accident. At all. 

“There you are, Katsuki!” Michele gave a wide step forward, heavy, purposely loud, attempting intimidation “I’ve been looking for your sorry gay ass” 

Yuuri walked backwards, remembering there was still evilness on earth, and not really wanting to confront it. But just when he thought he actually had a chance to escape, he clashed against other body. 

“Where are you going?” JJ chuckled, grabbing him by the shoulders. 

Oh no…there were two of them. 

“What? Did you really catch him? Oh, well done, guys!” Emil’s voice appeared out of nowhere, and before he could even register it he was standing right beside him “Hello there” 

Fuck. Three. 

He turned to look at Phichit, but noticed he was now in Michele’s grip, looking at him in horror. However, they didn’t seem to be interested in him, they were just moving him out of the way. Their real pray, was no one but Yuuri.

“What’s going on?” He asked, looking around, seeing how people were beginning to gather around them. Apparently, watching the school drama was always more important than being in class on time. 

“We happened to find a certain video…” JJ explained, pushing him, cornering him with Emil “A video featuring you, dancing like the gay lord you are” 

Yuuri paled, trying to recall any recent moments of embarrassment. There were no more videos of him online…what could they possibly be talking about??

“Video? What video?” 

“The one posted by this little rat over here” Michele said, shaking Phichit a bit “The one in which you were acting way too friendly towards another dude” 

“Phichit! You said you took it down!” 

“I did!” He tried to get lose from the other’s hold, wanting to look for the proofs on his cellphone “It only got six views and then I erased it!” 

“Not before my lovely sister download it” 

Sara?? Sara had download it?? Why?? What could she possibly want it for??

Michele played the video on his phone, and showed it to the horde that had gathered around the quarrel. There were laughs and gasps, comments of every kind. Most of them weren’t even rude, for fuck’s sake, who’s still homophobic on the 21th century?? But the fact it was Yuuri seemed to be some kind of fulfilled prophecy, an approbation stamp on all the rumors that had been going around for years. 

Just because it was Yuuri, it was funny. 

Just because it was Yuuri, it was ok to make fun of him. 

“What do you have to say on your defense, faggot?” No, not that word. He hated that word, he despised it “What’s with that face? Don’t you like being called that way? Faggot faggot faggot faggot faggot…” 

Knowing Yuuri, one would think he was scared or sad. Yet, he was not. He was furious. And the only reason why he hadn’t punched someone in the face by then was because he knew they would certainly beat the hell out of him. 

“Leave him alone!” Phichit shouted, not giving a damn about the fact Michele doubled him in size “Why do you have to be such assholes! He did nothing to you!” 

His words were just a short laughing matter.

“Why is he defending you? Is he your boyfriend now?” JJ laughed, pushing him back towards Emil, who pushed him forwards again “Are you a gay couple?”

No, they could mess with him all they wanted, but if they laid a finger on Phichit…

“Don’t ignore us, you fag! Why don’t you say anything?” Emil continued with the human ping-pong, tossing him around with JJ “Why don’t you defend yourself? Are you in love with us or something??” 

Yuuri felt disgusted, nauseous. He didn’t know if it was the rage, or maybe the dizziness of being pushed around, but he felt something beginning to rise up and down his throat like vomit heaves. Yet, it wouldn’t reach past his lips. It would stay there, acid and bubbling, spreading at the back of his mouth like rabies. He didn’t know if he was about to throw up, but if he was, then he wished it was on one of their faces. Whoever, he didn’t care which of the three. 

“Go away! Stop messing with him!” His friend insisted on defending him, licking the bully’s hand covering his mouth “You are a bunch of dickheads!” 

“Ugh, so annoying” JJ complaint “Shut him up” 

And, since JJ’s wishes were always everyone’s command, Michele shoved Phichit against the lockers, making him bump his head quite badly and kneel onto the ground.

Yuuri stared, eyes wide and mouth agape, waiting for the image to sink in.

“What is it, Katsuki?? Aren’t you going to…”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP” Everyone gave a step backwards as Yuuri’s slapped JJ’s hand away, his yell echoing through the entire hallway’s length “Don’t fucking touch me or any of my friends EVER again! Do I make myself clear??” 

No one dared to speak, not even Emil or Michele, who stared at the scene with bugged eyes. Who was that guy? That wasn’t Yuuri Katsuki! Yuuri Katsuki never answered back, he never looked so defiant, and definitely never seemed so scary.

But they were not going to back away, they were going to stand their ground, and show that kid his damn place.

“Who do you think you are, you baby-dicked faggot?” JJ muttered, smiling to the crowd, showing he was in no way intimidated. 

“Baby-dicked? Me?” He snorted “Aren’t you being quite a hypocrite, dear? For what I heard around, Isabella is not very pleased” 

The public shared a loud common gasp, getting higher and louder, matching the growing reddening of JJ’s face. No one could believe what they had just heard, not even the bullies, and not even Yuuri. Did he regret it, though? Not a single bit.

“What did you just say??” The guy tried to defend his honor, taking a hand to his victim’s throat and pressing him against the lockers once again. But his voice was already feeble, just like his posture, way too easy to break “What are you talking about?” 

“I’m talking about way too large condoms and frustrated motel adventures” He said, not even troubled by the choking “Poor Isabella…she spent so much money on that toy she had to buy for you… I heard she was even thinking of leaving you! Since apparently your dick is not the only thing that’s short” He pointed at his head “Such a short memory, you forgot your anniversary last week! And you thought sex could make up for it? I think she deserves better” 

JJ covered his mouth in shame, unused to mockery and chuckles being aimed to his own disgrace, and let go of his hold on Yuuri. He wanted to kill him, he wanted to detach his head from his body. But he couldn’t move. Humiliation had him stuck on his place, immobile, ears throbbing with the echoes of laughter. 

“See? That’s what I’m talking about! No one’s safe from rumors…and no one’s safe from problems” Yuuri spoke, turning to face the crowd, leaving a mortified JJ behind “Seriously! What’s wrong with all of you?? What kind of pleasure can you possibly find in watching these guys torturing me? Does it help you feel better about yourselves? Yes, I’m gay! I’m so gay, super gay! What about it? What’s the problem if I like dick??” 

Phichit couldn’t believe what he was witnessing. He didn’t know if the bump on his head was making him hallucinate or if his friend had really lost his mind. What he did know though, was that it was fricking hilarious.

“And you know what?? I don’t care what you think anymore. Come on, come beat me up now! I don’t give a shit, you won’t make me love dick any less” Yes, he had definitely lost his mind “You surely have problems too, but you are too scared to let them out so you just busy yourselves making fun of others. You think I suck? Well, yeah, I suck! But at least I don’t go around getting into other people’s nerves!”

His nausea was no vomit, but enraged, brute words, pouring from his mouth without his consent. He had fallen into the Yurio logic, which instead of thinking before speaking, consisted in speaking, fucking things up, and then thinking. And for someone like him, who had been ill with overthinking through all of his life, it was a new experience. 

As well as for everybody else, who were used to seeing him take every punch without complain, this potty, rash mouth was totally out of character. 

Michele and Emile stared from afar, conflicted, not really sure of how to react. On one hand they wanted to beat the shit out of him, for daring to defy them. But on the other hand…he was kind of right.

The hallway fell into a graveyard silence, all eyes on Yuuri, waiting for someone to throw the first punch and end the eye of the hurricane. But that didn’t happen. Instead, some kid of the crowd gave a step forwards, and breathing in deeply he spoke: 

“I’m failing all of my classes” He confessed “And I pretend I’m smart, but I’ve been lying and hiding my exams from my parents for months. I suck, too.” 

Yuuri deadpanned, not really ready for that outcome, and having no answer to offer. Michele was about to push the kid back, to tell him not to get in between. But before he could lay a finger on him, other girl suddenly burst from the multitude. 

“I suck too!” She shouted “I cheated on my boyfriend!” 

“I created a horrible webpage and almost ruin my best friend’s life” Phichit looked at Yuuri and winked “We all suck!” 

The bullies looked around, astonished, jaws dropping as they saw every kid in the crowd jumping and screaming their secrets and qualms. 

“My parents are getting divorced!” 

“I stepped on my turtle and killed it!”

“I’m a lesbian! Bring all the tits!” 

“I masturbate in class!” 

“I still wet my bed sometimes!” 

Yuuri sunk in the sea of voices, breathless, oblivious to his own achievements. At first he thought he was having an anxiety attack again, with the millions of shouts and vocals driving him insane. But it didn’t take him that long to realize it was all happening outside his head. They weren’t even listening to each other, they were just spitting their worries, emptying their chests, indulging themselves in the relief of humiliation. Had he just impose a new degradation fashion? Apparently, he had. Should he feel proud? 

He turned to look at Emil and Michele, who had lost any kind of drive, and currently looked like puppets with cut strings. Stiff, motionless, purposeless…and kind of retarded. They were used to follow the flow…but this flow had taken kind of an unexpected turn, and had given them an unwanted tour to the dark, neglected bottoms of their own soul. And, just when Yuuri thought he was going to be pelted to death and have his head stuck on a stick, he saw Michele’s lips beginning to tremble.

“I…I think I kind of have the hots for my sister” He confessed, looking at the floor with shame. 

“And I have the hots for Michele!” Emile offered quite a plot-twist. 

“Wait...what the fuck??” 

A new turmoil began, with lots of revelations and tears and laughter that Yuuri was having quite a hard time understanding.

Ok, that was really an unusual Monday.

He turned to look Phichit, to check if he was hurt and if maybe he needed a hand to get up from the ground. But as he smiled at him, offering his kindness and an escapade, Phichit didn’t smile back. He grimaced in horror.

Before Yuuri could even react, JJ had turned him around and had flight a punch right into the corner of his lip.

A punch in the mouth? Quite symbolic, if you ask me. Since it seemed to be quite a desperate attempt to make him shut up.

Yuuri tumbled backwards, almost falling into the ground, but keeping himself in balance in the end. He took a trembling hand to his lip, and when he looked at it, it was covered in blood. The crowd muted, eyes opened wide and set on the punishment, remembering what happened if someone dared to defy the hierarchy. Of course, how could they possibly forget? Things were the way they were for a reason, and secrets were sealed behind closed lips for the best. That was the natural order of things, and they had been foolish if they thought it would change.

However, what happened next, didn’t seem to fit at all within the rules of the game. 

Without thinking twice, Yuuri closed his fist and returned the punch. 

The multitude ran wild. 

He had no muscle, no strength, and definitely no experience. But if there was something he did have, was a lifetime supply of fervent rage, and a thirst for revenge not even that punch had been able to fully satisfy. He had been acting on his impulses for the last five minutes, but that punch, ladies and gentleman, he had thrown it with complete and total awareness. He knew exactly what he was doing, and he didn’t regret it a single bit.

Yet, as he saw JJ’s astonishment, the taken aback faces of every witness, and the blood beginning to drip from his injured knuckles…he realized he had done much more than a superficial black eye.

“Katsuki!” The enraged voice of principal Minako interrupted the scene. Because, of course, it was always his misdeeds that were seen by the authorities “To my office, NOW!”

“HE DID WHAT??” 

Was the only thing Viktor could blurt out, spiting his coffee, unable to believe Yakov’s words. 

“I don’t know what happened to the boy…In all my years as his coach, I had never seen him snap like that. He is a good kid, that’s a fact, that’s why it was so weird to see him punch someone. It felt wrong, like, I don’t know…like hearing a blasphemy from a toddler” The old man poured himself some water from the dispenser, reaching his hand to close his nephew’s open mouth “I found it odd, that’s why I tell you. Since you seem to be quite fond of him and all…” 

Viktor couldn’t help the chortles tickling at the back of his throat. 

Yuuri?? Punching someone??? God, how could he possibly miss that! He would have paid to see it! The poor guy had the strength of an ant…come on, it was funny. He got kind of concerned when he heard JJ had hit him first, but apparently he was ok. He found Yuuri’s rebellion much more amusing, including the part in which he publicly announced he loved dick. 

What had happened to him?? How was he feeling?? Why didn’t Phichit record any of it??

He had way too many doubts and way too little answers. But if there was something he did know, was that it was his duty to make fun of him. A lot. 

“Where is he now?” He asked his uncle, throwing the empty cup of coffee away. 

“I heard he got detention, he must be at it now”

Minako had told Viktor to meet her at the end of the day, since she had something to discuss with him. But one of her reunions seemed to be kind of delayed and she had him waiting, so he had made a quick stop to have some coffee with Yakov in the meantime. She must have been almost done by then, though.

He looked at his watch…yeah, he still had some minutes left. 

Without thinking twice, he left the gym coach alone in the teacher’s room and skipped all the way through the hallway, humming contently, checking through the window of every class’s door in the look for a certain someone.

Room A19. Left row, fifth desk, right next to the window sat no one but his little Yuuri Katsuki with arms crossed and a split lip. Viktor had to press a hand onto his nose and mouth as not to laugh out loud. He looked so pissed! Have he ever been on detention before? Apparently no, since he seemed so outraged. And as the cherry on top, the only other person in the room apart from the sleepy teacher, was Jean-Jacques Leroy.

It wasn’t such a wonderful Monday, apparently, and Yuuri wanted to throw himself into the void.

His clothes were already dry, but not after a whole day of being awfully cold. His lip hurt, a lot, and his mouth still tasted like blood. He had had to call the Ice Castle and say he would be late to his shift, knowing it would discount from his salary, to stay a full hour sitting in life-consuming silence next to the person who had punched him in the face that very same morning. It wasn’t common to see him in a grumpy mood, he was usually rather peaceful. But right then, oh, he was as bitter as ever. 

And, just as if his suffering hadn’t been enough already, he saw a familiar gloved hand waving at him at the window.

Oh no, please no. 

Viktor was making faces at him, dramatic faces, almost as a little kid staring at a lion through the bars at the zoo. He kept pointing at him, gasping mutely, taking a hand to his forehead because “Oh gosh! The horror! Look at that vile creature!” and Yuuri was about to stand up and throw his second punch of the day.

“ _Go away!_ ” He mouthed, arms still crossed, face so cranky it was hilarious “ _Go!_ ” 

It was difficult to tell who the responsible adult was, when the so called counselor kept laughing like a hyena and miming incoherencies.

Yuuri shooed at him, telling him to leave, but all he got as a response was a grown ass man blowing kisses at him and shaping his hands like a heart, batting his eyelashes seductively. For the love of god! What if someone saw him?? How was he going to explain that?? They needed to be discreet! But any signs of rage or intimidation, only seemed to wind up more idiocy. 

“ _Leave!_ ” He insisted, mouthing so overly he almost spoke out loud “ _Viktor, for fuck’s sake! Leave!_ ” 

“What are you doing?” 

He almost falls from his chair at the sound of JJ’s voice. 

“Oh, uhm nothing” He eyed at the door’s glass once again, only to find Viktor was nowhere to be seen. He was going to kill him later on “I just thought I saw something” 

“Oh” 

There was a moment of silence, which Yuuri did well use of by calming himself down, breathing evenly once again and fixing his messy hair. He had kind of pushed it back before since it was wet and uncomfortable, but now that it had dried out it had taken quite an awkward shape, for what he could see at the window’s reflection. He usually liked rain, but that day, that supposedly wonderful Monday, it was getting into his nerves. He was sure he would catch a cold, some of his text books had been ruined, and humidity was bothersome and made everything as twice as tiring. 

He sighed, leaning back on the chair again. It had stopped raining outside, but it looked like it would start again at any second (probably as soon as he left the school, since that was just his luck). The sky was a dark shade of grey and there was almost no light, making the school’s field look poetically gloomy, and making the window act almost as a mirror. That’s how he noticed his hair looked so awful. And that’s how he noticed JJ was still staring at him.

“Who told you all those secrets about me?” He said, in a low voice but not low enough to be a whisper “Are you friends with Isabella?” 

Yuuri eyed the teacher, corroborating she hadn’t taken her daily coffee, and was sleeping soundly enough for them to talk with no risks.

“Uhm, not really” Until that moment, he hadn’t realized just how irresponsible he had been. He had revealed some of the information Viktor had secretly trusted him, he was a moron! What if he got him fired? He had got carried away, and he hadn’t thought about the consequences properly “I’m kind of…friends with one of her friends, let’s say” 

“Who?”

“Sorry, I can’t tell” He shifted nervously. 

“Why not?” 

“I promised not to give them away”

“And what if I told you I’ll beat you up if you don’t?” Yuuri stiffened, not really expecting the sudden violence outburst, but relaxing as soon as he saw JJ sulk “Who am I kidding…you would probably keep spilling more of my secrets anyways” 

“No I won’t” 

The guy blinked. 

“You won’t?” 

“I don’t like humiliating people” Yuuri said “Not even people who humiliate me 24/7” 

JJ exhaled deeply onto his hands, resting his head on the desk, bumping it almost as hard as to be considered painful. 

“Fuck I’m such a dick” He grunted, biting his lips “But you are a dick too, don’t act all innocent. You just ruined my school life a month before prom, that’s cruel” 

Yuuri shrugged, not really sure of what to say on his defense.

“Yeah, I guess you are right…sorry about that”

“And sorry for punching you while you were off-guard” He said and did that stupid gesture he did with his hands “That’s not JJ style” 

“Yeah that’s not…Yuuri style either” There was a failed attempt to create his own signature, but he realized it was stupid and put his arms down “Actually, I think it’s the first time I ever punch someone” 

JJ snorted. 

“Seriously?? Gosh, you are such a sissy” He shook his head in disbelief “I must have really pissed you off, then” 

“I think it was an accumulation of almost three years of storing hatred” Yuuri confessed, for the first time in his life not being afraid of looking at him in the eye. Only then, he noticed the light bruise on his face, pathetically soft for the amount of force he had intended at the moment, but it still made him feel rather powerful.

“Would you do it again?” 

“I don’t think you’ll be able to make me gather so much rage in just two months” 

JJ laughed. Like, he seriously laughed. And Yuuri was so used to hearing that laugh in the form of mockery that he wasn’t able to tell if he was laughing at him or with him.

“Oh? Was that a challenge?” Was that a joke?? “Come on, faggot! Man up!” 

“I would prefer you didn’t call me that” 

“Can’t promise you anything” He chuckled arrogantly, sitting in a way he made that wretched school desk look like a throne “But I can tell Michele and Emile to stop messing with you in the hallways if you promise not to go around telling everyone about my dick size” 

Yuuri narrowed his eyes, not wanting to be left into the passive role again, tired of nodding and accepting the fate others imposed.

“So you can treat me like shit but your friends can’t? You want to make a deal out of that?” He scoffed, smirking “Sorry, but I can’t promise anything, either” 

There was a new moment of silence, again, but this time it felt essentially different. It wasn’t a cowardice silence, the one he was so used to feel whenever he swallowed his own complaints and objections. No, this one was another kind, much more comfortable, and much more gratifying. Because it wasn’t his silence they were dealing with, it was JJ’s silence, after he had shut him up. 

All they could hear was the constant, rhythmical sound of the clock and the teacher’s light snoring, together with the uneven tapping of nervous fingers on the desk, until JJ finally let out a defeated snort, and turned to look at him in a way he hadn’t seen him look at anyone before. With respect. 

“You may be a faggot” He said “but you surely have balls”

Viktor made his way to Minako’s office playfully, whistling with his hands in his pockets, as if he had just made a huge favor to humanity. When, in reality, he had just made fun of a poor kid in detention. 

He loved his life, and he loved himself right then. Everything was going just the way he wanted it to go, he had all he never knew he wanted but apparently he did, and he had got it in less than a year since he moved out of his shitty hometown. Could he ask for more? 

No, he couldn’t. He didn’t want any more or any less. He wanted everything to stay just the way it was right then.

Maybe that was the reason behind his current arrogance (or maybe not, maybe he had always been a little too much prideful) and maybe that was the reason he walked the school grounds like he owned them, like he was born to work there, and like the counselor had a much higher rank in hierarchy than it actually had.

He saw Minako shaking hands with a woman, thanking her for her time, and indicating where the exit was. Once she was gone, she signaled Viktor it was his time to get into the office, and so he did. 

“What’s up, my dearest principal?” He said, smiling at her, as cheekily as usual “Did you bring the new vodka? Do you want me to try it out?” 

“Yeah, but that’s not the reason I called you here today” The woman sighed, placing her hands on the desk and leaning over, looking at him with much more solemnity than their bond usually allowed “Please sit down”

He did as told, quite perplexedly, unused to being treated so coldly. Yes, she was his boss, but they had somehow become quite close working together. They drank together, chatted about the students, and kept silent about the other’s misdeeds. They were friends, not just acquaintances. So, with all this sudden formality and aloofness, Viktor was quite confused. 

“What’s with that face?” He joked, leaning back on the chair and grinning “Am I getting fired or something?” 

“Yes”

Wait, what?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAA please tell me what you thought about this! I'm not sure if I'll be able to write all I have in mind in just one chapter...so maybe the next one is not the last one.   
> Although I loved writing the lovey-dovey scenes, I really enjoyed the JJ-Yuuri chat at the dentention room. I think it shows just how much Yuuri developed as a person...idk, I want to know your thoughts!


	10. How far we've come

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEEYYYY SO I GOT SO HYPE THIS ISN'T THE LAST CHAPTER. The next one is tho...so get ready. I'll probably wirte one more chapter and an epilogue, so yeah.  
> I hope you like this one! It's one of my favorite so far, but mainly because of the first scene...idk, character development and deep shit man.  
> SEE THE END NOTES FOR SOME IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT!!!

Just like Yuuri had specifically predicted, almost as if part of a prophecy, by the time he got out from detention it started to rain again. Heavily.

He sighed, staring at the humid hell awaiting him down the front stairs, trying to open his wretched umbrella but failing miserably. Was the train still not working? Would he have to make all his way home by foot? Streets were beginning to slightly flood, and they still weren’t ahead enough in spring for the wind to feel warm. It was going to be a long, long walk. 

The suiting ending for a long, long day.

He just wanted to get home and sleep for three days straight. Damn, it was barely Monday. The worst part was that his nap attempts would probably be interrupted by the outburst of questions about his split lip Mari would ask him as soon as he stepped into the house. Perhaps he wouldn’t even have time to change into comfortable, dry clothing before he was forced to recite the events of his fight with JJ. How was he going to explain his parents?? He would have to think of something.

As he finally ventured into the downpour, covering himself with the corpse of his broken attempt of an umbrella, he realized he should have probably worn boots that day. He wasn’t stepping on puddles, the whole sidewalk was a giant puddle. No matter where he laid his foot at, all he stood on was water. Was he walking or was he swimming? He couldn’t really tell. He couldn’t even see through that thick water curtain, and he couldn’t listen to anything but the deafening sound of rainfall hitting against his destroyed umbrella. 

As he was about to turn around the corner though, not even a two blocks away from school, a grey way too familiar Audi braked right in front of him. The door was elegantly opened as an invitation, and he looked around cautiously before he swiftly jumped in. 

“Gosh Viktor, thank you so much, you saved me” He exhaled, ruffling the rain out form his hair, and trying to place his old umbrella somewhere it wouldn’t ruin the seat’s upholstery “I was beginning to think I would die out there I…” 

Yet, before he could even finish the sentence, he was greeted with a sudden, forceful kiss on the mouth. 

He grunted uncomfortably, pushing the other away, and looking at him with evident reproach.

“What are you doing??” He complained, paranoidcally looking through the window to check if someone had seen them “Have you gone insane??” 

“Oh well, excuse me” Viktor rolled his eyes, infuriated, stinking like sarcasm “I assumed I could greet you like that now…seems not. My bad” 

Yuuri saw him start the car, grabbing the gear shift with much more pressure than necessary, looking genuinely offended and annoyed. 

“Uh?? We are right next to school, Viktor! I’m just being cautious because…” 

“Yeah, because your reputation is so much more important than me now” He nagged, confusing Yuuri even further 

“What??”

“It’s ok, you can go around school punching people all you want! Meanwhile I’m not even allowed to kiss you” 

“What does that even have to do with…anything??” The boy tried to understand, but he was having a hard time doing so when the man had his eyes so set on the road he wouldn’t even look at him “You are making a scene out of nothing, I just didn’t want to kiss you because maybe there were still people from school around and…” 

“I don’t care! You don’t understand anything!” 

If there was something Yuuri had been forced to learn about Viktor in previous situations, was that whenever he was upset about anything he got upset about everything. No matter what the problem was, he was going to let everybody around him know, and he was going to be awfully petty about it. 

“Understand what?? Gosh, you are so childish!” He snapped “And so unprofessional!”

“Oh, really? You didn’t seem to mind that the other night when I had my dick up your…”

“What the fuck is wrong with you??” Yuuri shouted, fury trespassing his limits of tolerance, as he tried to unbuckle his seatbelt with trembling, angry fingers “Stop the car! I’ll walk!” 

“No you won’t!” Viktor clenched his grip on the wheel, knuckles turning white “It’s raining, dammit!” 

“And you are being rude!” He grunted, grabbing the door’s handle “Stop the damn car! I don’t want to stay next to someone who-” 

“Don’t leave me alone!”

As he heard the voice cracking, braking, choking on its own shame, Yuuri turned to face a very much distressed Viktor, hands shaking and eyes tearing, as he tried to breathe evenly through his trembling lips. 

Never, in all the months they spent together, had he seen him so close to the verge of tears. He had seen him get his eyes watery and his voice quivery before, but never like this. Never with his chest heaving that way, never with his nose reddening from holding back the snuffles, and never looking like it hurt so damn much to swallow ordinary spit. He was utterly devastated.

“Viktor?” He mumbled, letting go of the door, and although still mad he couldn’t help his weak nature “Why are you acting like this? What’s wrong??”

“Nothing” He sniffed, gulping any traces of a possible sob.

“Weren’t you the one who told me to talk things out??” Yuuri insisted, not really knowing how to deal with him when he got in that state of mind “Viktor, talk to me”

They advanced fast, almost too dangerous for a rainy day, with Viktor unnecessary accelerating just for the mere release of tension. They stopped by a red light and the car fell into a whimsical silence. The sound of rainfall lulled every other street noise into nonexistence, and the water curtaining the windows blurred the world outside the vehicle, turning them into some kind of separate surreal dimension, that had the couple locked inside their own little, detached portion from reality. It wasn’t until the light turned green and he was able to distract himself with the driving, that Viktor managed to talk again:

“I got fired” 

Yuuri deadpanned, paling, every single blood drop in his body suddenly sinking to his freezing toes. 

“What?” He stammered, already falling into a countless amount of terrible scenarios “Why do…? What the…? Did they find out about…?” 

“No, don’t worry. They don’t know” Viktor panted, exhausted by the mere effort of keeping himself together “They just…Minako said she was thankful for my work and all but that she needed to hire a real psychologist for the coming year, that my degree had little to do with counseling, and that I should probably start looking for another job. I’m still working till the end of the year, but…” 

He couldn’t finish the sentence, since he almost crashed onto another car that had stopped because of a traffic light Viktor had failed to notice. 

“Red light! Viktor, pay attention!” Yuuri shouted, as the other man abruptly stepped onto the brake and the car shook brusquely “Are you ok?? Pull over for a moment, I think you may need some time to…” 

“No, I’m fine” 

Viktor covered his face with his hands, breathing heavily, trying to massage the stress away. He couldn’t believe he almost caused an accident…and with the boy inside the car. 

He was so irresponsible, damn, no doubt why he got fired. And as if he didn’t have enough reasons to hate himself already, Yuuri was still being a sweetheart, looking at him with those worry-sick puppy dog eyes, and speaking as kindly as ever even though he had just been so rude to him. God, could he get any lower? 

He was tired, tired of being so lucky, of always walking on the thinnest of ices and never breaking it. He used to be a skater, after all, he seemed to have kept the trait. No one was supposed to be so fortunate, no one was supposed to be allowed to fuck up so badly all the time without paying the consequences. He had moved out from his house because he was tired of having everything served on a silver tray, but he hadn’t realized he hadn’t left that tray at home. He still had his looks, his brains, his charms, a lovely uncle that got him a lovely job, he got himself an amazing friend like Chris, and he had even found love. He was still living the good life, he still got everything he wanted, and time still seemed to be willing to pamper him.

Or, at least, until that day. 

Getting fired was the big first “No” Viktor had received in his entire life. His very first frustration, and his very first failure. How could he so foolish? Nothing was supposed to be so simple, so effortless. He had built his whole life and his happiness on top of quite feeble foundations, all product of mere luck he hadn’t even bothered to weld. 

Easy come, easy go. 

“Don’t worry, Viktor, uhm…you’ll get through this, I guess. You are smart, you can get another job, it’s ok”

“No, it’s not ok” Viktor was nothing alike Yuuri regards the way he dealt with emotions. Viktor was effusive, explosive, and brutally honest. Even though he wasn’t used to have someone to talk with, he always had his feelings pretty much sorted out, and needed no one to search for clues. He knew what he felt, he knew what he wanted, and he preferred pain to come like a single, direct punch rather than a latent, constant throb. That’s why he preferred to spit it all out right then, scream out loud, pour it somewhere else. And that’s what had him in the verge of tears “I think destiny is finally charging on me for being such an idiot all my damn life, I don’t deserve anything I have! Just like that job, all I ever had I got it without a sweat! I don’t deserve my house, my dog, this stupid car, my degree, my friends…and I don’t deserve you!” He screamed, eyes still set on the road, unable to drive away from his own thoughts “I’m a complete failure” 

Yuuri listened, taken aback, intimidated by the sudden outburst. He was way too used to witness aggressiveness already, but never could he have seen it coming from Viktor. The grief and the frustration had surely messed his head, he probably didn’t know what he was even saying. But that didn’t help the fact the poor guy didn’t know what to say, how to react, how to calm down that fervent side of him he was so unfamiliar with. Because, unlike Viktor, Yuuri had never been able to put his guts into words yet.

“Don’t say that, I really like you…” 

“You shouldn’t! I’ve been a dick to you! I lied for months about that night at the bar, and I ‘ve been the shittiest counselor ever because I didn’t want anyone to know I had no idea of what I was doing!” 

It wasn’t like him to comment on his faults so openly, he was a prideful man, and no one had never heard him admit even the faintest of mistakes.

“You helped lots of people!”

“No I didn’t” 

“Students line in front of your office!” He insisted, roughly “They trust you, we all do! Because although you maybe aren’t a psychology expert, you listened to us in a way no one ever did! You never cared about our grades or our performance at school, you cared about us! About our lives! And somehow your interventions always worked!” 

“They didn’t”

“Yes they did! Viktor, since you appeared, I am the happiest I’ve ever been!” 

Once again, silence ruled the car.

Yuuri hadn’t meant to shout, but he was just so horribly pissed. Pissed because his lip still hurt from the fight with JJ, pissed because he had been mistreated and all for a stupid kiss, pissed because he couldn’t believe his counselor had got fired, and pissed because he hated to see him so upset and clogged.

Why didn’t he just cry? He wasn’t going to make the question out loud, but since the man was usually so open and expressive he couldn’t help but wonder. 

Because it was a rainy day the traffic was terribly dense. No one wanted to get wet so they used their cars, and everyone was keeping quite a slow speed to prevent accidents. So, as they got stuck on a traffic jam, brains hammered by anguish and the constant horns of impatient drivers, Viktor felt like his head was going to explode. All that congested grief and clenched muscles had his temples throbbing, and Yuuri’s presence was way too strong and obvious inside the car. No matter how hard he tried to close his eyes and pretend he wasn’t there, he could still sense him, feel him, his gaze still lingering in the air like an unavoidable stink.

He was about to say something, anything, to finally break with that drowning silence. But as he turned to face him, mouth already open to let out whatever he came up with, he noticed the other had his eyes set somewhere else.

He followed his stare instinctively, not knowing what could possibly catch his attention like that in the middle of such a conversation, until he saw the figure of a lonely boy sitting on a bench under the rain, getting damp wet, and sobbing onto his trembling hands. 

The sight was already devastating itself, but what really had Viktor’s heart twitch inside his chest, was recognizing a way too familiar animal-print backpack. 

“That’s Yurio” Yuuri whispered, absentmindedly “Pull over” 

Viktor obeyed without further thought, eyes still full of that crying kid, knowing they had to do something. The punk would probably pretend there was nothing wrong and tell them to fuck off, because he didn’t trust anyone enough as to let them see such an intimate, bland side of himself. But they couldn’t just leave him there under the rain, crying his eyes out and violently shivering. Whatever discussion they were having before became minor and unimportant, as they parked in front of what they lately recognized as Hasetsu’s Geriatric House. 

They stopped the car next to the side walk, just a little bit behind the bench, yet Yurio didn’t see them. He was way too busy being miserable, bending forwards and onto his knees to try to find an axis. His heart had finally fallen from its constant display of being on the tightrope, from his daily act of daring and bravery, which made a show out from his sorrow by keeping up with his endless outbursts of rudeness and his gory drawings. Something had cut that rope. Or had pushed him. Or maybe he had just lost balance on his own, who knows. 

What was really clear right then, was that he needed someone to pick him up. He needed someone to help him. 

Viktor rolled down the window, breathing the fresh, humid air of the outsides, contrasting with the stuffed tension inside the car. He poked his head out, trying to catch the boy’s attention without speaking and startling him, but he just wouldn’t turn around. His face was sunk into his hoodie, and his whole head was now buried in his hands. 

What could have possibly happened to leave him in that dejected state, they had no idea. Yurio was the kind of person who sieved their sorrow into anger, he never really got the help he needed because he didn’t look like he needed it. He preferred hate over pity, that was for sure, so he never really displayed his sadness, nor any emotion, in front of other people. 

However, as Viktor was about to give up on his silence and call out his name, Yuuri suddenly interrupted him. He placed a hand on his shoulder, stopping him, and pointing at another figure now approaching the crying boy. They narrowed their eyes, trying to decipher the image through the dense, blinding rainfall. It was a man, not very tall, carrying an umbrella and a steamy coffee, that sat down next to Yurio and covered him from the rain.

Viktor and Yuuri half-closed the window, hiding behind the polarized glass, as soon as they realized it was Otabek. 

“Here” He said, handing him the coffee, watching him inhale the steam like it would unfreeze his spirit “How are you feeling?” 

“Like shit, obviously” The punk sobbed, not daring to sip his drink just yet, scared of choking. 

“Just try to breathe, Yura. Come on, we need to go home, you’ll get sick” 

“I don’t want to go home” He sniffed, cleaning snot with the sleeve of his sweatshirt “And I don’t give a shit if I get sick and die right now” 

The other two kept staring from the distance, listening to the conversation as best as they could between the loud downpour, trying to understand the situation and see if they should intervene. But that didn’t seem to be the case. Since, much to their surprise, he wasn’t pushing Otabek away completely. 

“Calm down, Yura. Maybe it was just a mistake” 

“No it wasn’t!” He cried, almost spilling the coffee, slapping the other’s comforting hand away “He forgot about me, Otabek! He didn’t know who I was! He wasn’t joking and it was definitely not some fucking mistake!!” 

For the first time in the conversation, Yurio picked up his gaze from the ground, revealing a pair of bloodshot, swollen eyes and features haggard by grief. He looked painfully furious, devastated, with his brow stitched frowned and his jaw clenched so hardly it seemed to be holding his sanity. Like he was releasing all the possible tension in that silly, stupid action. Like biting on his own teeth could keep him from falling apart. 

“Yura, I…”

“Don’t even try!” He spit, fuming, almost steaming against the cold air “My own grandpa forgot about me and he’s everything I have left!! I don’t want him to leave me as well!” 

“But you said it was just for a moment, then he came back to normal…” 

“Yeah, but I already know how this shit works!” Yurio coughed, taking a deep breath and resting his face on his hands “First it’s just for a moment, he stares at you with that confused, absent face for a second, asking you to repeat yourself, until it suddenly comes back to him. Then it lasts for a minute, you can see him make a huge effort to remember it, and sometimes he nods like he understood, but you can see in his eyes he’s not really sure of what you are talking about” Otabek listened, bowing his head, unable to fight against his own pity “He begins to ask more and more questions each day, needing more and more data to remember as time passes by. And then, one day, you are suddenly out from his map of existence. At the mention of your name, he just pouts a bit, as if it rang a bell, as if it brought some kind of… taste to his mouth, but with nothing to swallow. No matter how much you try explaining and how long you keep talking, even if you manage him to acknowledge it, it would be gone by the next day. I’ve seen the process too many times before, I’ve seen him forget birthdays, anecdotes, people, and even my mother’s death.” He panted, relaxing the tired muscles of his face, and turning to look at Otabek with bindings set loose “I don’t want to be forgotten, Beka”

This time, when Otabek threw an arm around him, Yurio had no energies whatsoever to push him away. So Viktor and Yuuri watched in awe from the distance, eyes opened wide and mouths agape, as the kid slowly broke his posture and let himself cry on the other’s shoulder. 

He hid his face as he sniffed, wept, moaned and wheezed, letting it all out, shaking both from the cold outside and the fire in his chest, the burning sensation of his tears and his swollen throat. He bent forwards, hugging his own gut, trying to squeeze some air into himself. Have you ever been hit in the pit of the stomach so hard you couldn’t breathe? That was exactly what he felt then, ineptly trying to achieve the mere attainment of inhaling, of exhaling, without that acute pain in his gullet and lungs.

That was the first time in so many, many years since Yurio actually cried.

And the very first time he cried in front of anyone. 

Yuuri gave Viktor a sad smile, patting him on the back, as a mean of silent comfort for what he knew he was thinking. 

The man had been witness of Yurio’s temper for way too many years already, he had seen the frowns, he had heard the useless pep talks, he had tried to cheer Lilia up whenever she got overly stressed on the matter, telling her he was just a kid, and that he would eventually get over it. 

Yet, Viktor wasn’t sure he would get over it. Not when he didn’t talk about his problems, not when he didn’t have any passion or activity rather than visiting his grandpa, and not when he kept acting so hostile. He feared, he wholeheartedly dreaded, that one day he wouldn’t be able to take it anymore; that without any escape, the rubbish clogged inside his soul would end up rotting him, destroying him, bursting him into pieces. He had acted indifferent on the matter to avoid any more worries, but in the back of his mind he always knew he had to do something. 

He had done something. 

Yurio wasn’t an easy person, that was a fact. You couldn’t approach him in the conventional ways. Sweetness would only disgust him, authority brought up rage, and he wasn’t stupid enough to fall for the “I am your cool friend” method so many had tried and failed.

No, you couldn’t just burst inside the personal bubble of someone who had so much trouble opening up. 

You had to bet on time and patience, and let them slowly get into yours. 

Who would be stupid enough to think someone like him actually enjoyed his own bubble? How could someone even last living inside that isolate, gloomy version of reality? Yurio needed no one to get into his bubble, he needed someone to take him out. 

And that’s what Viktor had tried to do. He realized there was no use in trying to convince him, so he played against the rules and signed him into the art class. Stupid, one would think. But that kid was way too used to doing whatever he pleased, and a spoonful of submission wouldn’t do any harm. He thought forcing him out of his routine and his nonexistence circles of people, would maybe help him see life in other colors. 

Viktor had kept an eye on him. He had talked to his teachers to check on his performance, he had had several chats with Lilia on his attitude at home, and had even asked the crazy art professor Georgi about the kid’s development in his class. He even secretly took advantage of Yuuri’s friendship with him, since he got to know more details, and since he had an indirect way of approaching him. 

Yet, never did he face Yurio in person about the matter. He had done everything in the shadows, from behind, wanting to prove both the punk and himself he knew what he was doing. 

He didn’t know what he was doing.

But he had the gut feeling, the hope, and also the affection, since he had grown fond of him and wanted to help. And, even though he didn’t know if his actions were having any effect whatsoever, he was still willing to make the effort, and keep trying to make him happy. 

And now, after so many months of hidden counseling, after so many years of dealing with Yurio’s tantrums, and after a lifetime of believing he couldn’t do anything by himself, Viktor stared at that apathetic, lonely, angry kid crying on someone’s shoulder. A friend’s shoulder. And he had given yet another step out from his filthy bubble. 

So, as he turned on the engine and started the car again, deciding there was no need to intervene since Yurio seemed to be in good company already, Viktor started to cry. Violently. So much, that he had to stop the car again a few blocks after and let his head rest on top of the wheel. 

Yuuri smiled, taking a comforting hand to his back and rubbing, soothing him, humming contently at the inevitable. He watched him cry, and cry and cry, as if he hadn’t cried in a lifetime. When, in reality, Viktor did cry quite a lot. It wasn’t an accumulation but an impulse, like a sling that had been stretching beyond its boundaries, pulling and pulling and pulling until the tears were set loose, and they fell as hard as ever. He had been trying to hold them back for so long, as for Yuuri not to see them, that now they were even more obvious, more strident, more real. And there was no way to stop them.

“There, there” His partner murmured, calmingly, resting his head on his shoulder and hugging him tight “See? You did help us, you are very special”

“I don’t know what I’m going to do” He didn’t even know what he was crying about anymore, there were just so many emotions: sadness, anger, disillusion, pride, content, melancholy…all swirling inside of him, he might as well have been crying from the mere buzz of the overstimulation.

“Don’t worry, you’ll find another job. And I’ll be here with you no matter what…if you promise not to treat me like shit again”

Viktor chuckled between sobs, hugging Yuuri back, not minding the coldness and the humid smell coming from his wetted clothes.

“Promise”

“Say, Yuuri” Phichit’s voice was wondering, inquiring, so Yuuri knew to expect a question. An odd one, specifically “Who are you taking to prom?” 

The guy stiffened, ceasing his walking, standing like a post in the middle of the hallway.  
“I have to take someone?”

“For the love of god, Yuuri! You can’t go to your senior prom alone!” His friend went on “And, I mean, you _can’t_ take Viktor so…”

Well, shit. That was certainly not part of his agenda.

“I have no idea” Yuuri mumbled, already beginning to freak out, since that was the thing he did best “Will I be the only lonely one?? I mean, Viktor WILL be there, but we can’t, you know…Fuck! Phichit, why didn’t you tell me sooner! Maybe I shouldn’t even attend…”

“Calm your tits dude! You HAVE to go!” 

“I can’t calm my tits!” He panicked, grabbing his head “Hell, who are you taking though?” 

“I was planning to ask you, to be honest” 

Confusion hit him like a slap, bringing him back to his senses. 

“What??” 

“Lots of people go as friends! And I have literally never talked to a female in this school before so…”

Yuuri couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Was going as friends a thing?? Should they dance together? He didn’t mind that, but if he was expecting them to wear matching ties or some shit then he would have to say no. 

“Are you…seriously willing to do this?” 

“Yeah, why not?” Phichit shrugged. 

“Well, considering the whole school knows I’m gay now wouldn’t it be a little…suspicious?” 

“Oh” He finally got the hint, wondering on what to do for a second “Well, then we can go as a group, maybe Leo or Guang-Hong have no couple either” 

“Yeah...maybe Yurio wants to come along too” 

Phichit arched a brow, laughing dryly.

“Do you seriously think Yurio will go?”

“You have a point there” Yuuri chuckled, remembering the punk could possibly write a book on the hundred and one reasons why school dances were shit. 

“It’s settled then, It’ll be you, me, probably Guang-Hong and Leo because they are damn losers, and anyone who doesn’t have a proper date and wants to join the outcast club” He nodded contently “We’ll take lots of pictures. It’s mandatory” 

Of course, of course they would. He couldn’t expect less from the selfie king. 

“I can’t believe I’m going with you” Yuuri chuckled, pushing him affectively, yet the other was distracted and almost falls to the ground.

“Hey!” He complaint, melodramatically “Should I feel offended? Am I not good enough for you??” 

Were they really going to make this unnecessarily dramatic?

Definitely.

“Hmm, I don’t know…” He trailed off, looking to the ceiling, trying not to laugh at his friend’s face “I was expecting my prom date to be more…romantic”

In that same second, Phichit dropped onto his knee in front of him, holding his hand in his and looking at him dead in the eye, before kissing his knuckles sensually. 

“Yuuri Katsuki, my beautiful nerd, my meaty pork chop, my four-eyed sunshine…would you go to prom with me?” He emphasized his words with a charming bat of his eyelashes “Hashtag no homo” 

Yuuri blushed, not because of the proposition itself, but because of the fact they were still in the middle of the hallway, and there was no way for them to dismiss the rumors about being a couple by then. 

“Oh, Phichit…everything’s happening so fast!” 

Well, at least now no one would ever suspect from Viktor… 

He was actually starting to feel rather excited about prom, which was pretty surprising, considering just five minutes before he was planning on faking an illness to avoid it. He usually associated school dances with loud music, social tension, and wearing awkward suits. 

Yuuri hated suits. In fact, he only owned one, as well as just one single light blue tie. One would think that since his parents worked at a fancy hotel and threw lots of important events, he would be already easy with all the elegant events business. 

Yet, there he was. Wondering if there maybe, maybe, would be a chocolate fountain, and thinking about taking his one and only suit to the laundry.

“Ehem” 

A purposely loud hum interrupted the dramatic scene, and both friends turned around to the sight of a rather confused JJ. 

“Uhm…this is not what it looks like” Phichit said, standing up from the ground.

“Yeah, sure…Katsuki, I need to talk to you” 

Yuuri blinked, trying to shake the shame away, and look at him like a normal human begin is supposed to stare at someone his species. 

“Talk to me?” 

JJ rolled his eyes.

“Is there another Katsuki here?” 

“Not yet” Phichit joked, kissing Yuuri’s ring finger before he could react and slap him away. 

“Get out, you idiot” His prom date snickered uncomfortably, pushing him for real this time, with the absolute purpose of making him fall. 

JJ watched, unamused, as Phichit recovered from the balance loss and left the scene in a laughing fit. It wasn’t likely from him to leave his best friend alone with a bully, to be honest, but after what had happened the other day, he was quite sure there was nothing to be afraid of. Yuuri had that imbecile eating from the palm of his hand. 

“Uhm…sorry about that” The guy apologized, scratching his neck, still unused and uncomfortable about talking to the school team’s quarterback face to face. He really did try for his nerves not to show, to pretend the other day’s sass hadn’t been just the product of a rage quit. But he was having quite a hard time keeping himself on his feet right then “You needed something?”

“I need to talk to you about something rather…secret”

Hold on, was that blush on his cheeks?? Was he embarrassed??

“Secret? What do you mean?” 

“I need…advise” 

He was definitely embarrassed.

Yuuri didn’t understand, was it a joke? Why would the absolute testosterone king ask _him_ of all people for advice? 

On his defense, it was reasonable to consider running away for his life right then.

Yet, somehow, he didn’t follow his cowardice this time.

The look of bashfulness and newfound innocence lingering on JJ’s eyes was what got him to stay right there, mesmerized, like he had just found a pearl on an echinus. 

“You want ME to give you advice?” 

“Shhh, don’t let the whole school know!” He covered his mouth, signaling him to lower his voice, until they were interrupted by bell “Come here, you are skipping next class”

It hadn’t been a question.

“What?? But I can’t…!” 

“Yes you can” He insisted “Please, just for a moment” 

Yuuri really needed to learn how to say no. 

He was dragged all the way to the backyard, out from any distant ear’s reach, staring defiantly at each passing bird as if they could spill the beans. The kidnapped boy just followed him around warily, without discarding the option of getting his lip split again. The situation was way too bizarre to leave paranoid thoughts aside. 

The full minute of silence they spent just awkwardly staring at each other was what one could call utterly uncomfortable. In fact, it hadn’t really been a full minute. Just forty-eight seconds Yuuri had bothered to specifically count, since he needed to keep his mind busy with something if he didn’t want to faint right there and then.

“So…” JJ finally started talking, thankfully “You know some shit” 

Yuuri shifted gawkily, remembering certain defaming conversations with Viktor. 

“Uhm yeah, I know some shit” 

“Some shit about me and Isabella” He specified, as if he were beginning to list reasons why to beat him up

“Yeah…” 

“And do you…know anything I do not know?” 

Yuuri didn’t understand the question. 

“What?” 

JJ sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, leaning back into a wall to rest the weight of exasperation.

“Look, Katsuki, I’m going to be very clear: my relationship with her is not going very well, as you may know. I don’t know how to please her, she looks bored all the time, and doesn’t want to hang out as much as before and…well, fuck it, I’m desperate” He confessed, hiding his face from Yuuri’s obvious shock “That girl is everything I have, I would die if I ever lose her. So please, if you know something I could do to win her back…anything! Please, please tell me” 

Yuuri just stared.

He didn’t speak, because he didn’t know what to say. He didn’t walk away, because he couldn’t just leave him there. He didn’t blink, because he had forgotten how to. And he didn’t breathe, just by mere inertia. The lack of any kind of response almost spread to his vitals, like he had been switched off completely, like he had just been bereft of any feedback and could simply drop dead right then. He wasn’t good at comforting people, in fact, he sucked at it. He never really knew what to say, and if he did, he never really had the guts to say it. 

So, just because it was the only thing he was allowed to do, he kept staring. 

Staring, as the indestructible crumbled before his eyes. 

“Don’t you have any ideas?” JJ insisted “Any romantic bullshit she may like?? I was planning on asking her to prom in a special way” 

“That might help a little, I guess” He shrugged, still unsure of what he was supposed to say but incapable of admitting it anyways…was that what Viktor felt all the time?? “Do you have any ideas?” 

“I was thinking of publically announcing it after winning tomorrow’s match…that would be the shit!” He started fantasizing, completely high in his own expectation “Just imagine, I do the final score and everyone cheers, and while everyone’s staring at me I do JJ style and ask her out! It’s perfect! And then I can pay for a way much better love hotel and this time I swear I will be able to…!” 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea” 

JJ paused, confused, turning to look at him. Now, it was his time to be surprised. 

“You don’t?? Why??” 

“I’m not talking based on something I heard from her, rather from a gut feeling, but I believe the least thing Isabella wants right now is for you to pull more attention all over yourself. I do remember something about her feeling kind of…minor, next to you”

JJ couldn’t believe what he was hearing. And, to be honest, neither did Yuuri. He wasn’t talking by mere impulse, in fact, it might have been the first time he thought about something so thoroughly before putting it into words. And for the record, it was also the first time he felt so sure of his own speech. 

“Minor? What do you mean she feels minor??” 

“JJ, you are the quarterback, and probably one of the most popular people in school! I believe that’s a big part of why she likes you, honestly, she seems to love your confidence and everything but…maybe it’s kind of stressing to be the king’s shadow all the time, right?” 

“What?? She’s not my shadow, she’s my queen!” 

“Then make her feel like it!” Yuuri snapped, taking JJ aback “Don’t make her prom invitation all about you! Make it about her! Take her to her favorite restaurant, buy her favorite flowers, or maybe don’t buy anything…she doesn’t need presents, nor expensive hotels and stuff…she just needs to feel appreciated. She needs to be able to feel her boyfriend thinks more about her than he thinks about himself” 

He immediately regretted those last words as soon as he spit them, covering his mouth as if he could pull them back in. But it was too late, they were already out, and JJ’s eyes were already as wide as his imminent panic.

However, as he closed his eyes and waited for the punch he deserved for kind of calling him an egocentric asshole, the hit never really came. He opened an eye fretfully, tasting the waters, checking if maybe the guy was loading a gun or something. But what he saw instead was way more improbable than seeing a weapon in school grounds, and it was JJ sulking. 

Sulking, like, pouting, like, about to _cry_.

“JJ??” 

“Fuck, you are right” He mumbled, grabbing his head between his hands “I fucked up! She’ll leave me forever!” 

Yuuri’s tongue tried to pronounce so many things at the same time it almost knots, it weighted inside his mouth, as if it were swollen. 

“I…I didn’t say…I didn’t mean to…she won’t…!” 

“I really care about her, you know?? She’s the best thing that ever happened to me. If she ever leaves me I…hell, I don’t know what I would do! But JJ style wouldn’t make sense without her…Please, Katsuki, tell me what to do”

Again, he lost the catalogue of stored default consoling words. 

Only that, for the first time in his life, he needed no catalogue. 

He knew how it felt like to be in that situation, he knew what a bottomless pit looked like, and he knew it was hard to see in the dark. Experience had taught him that sometimes we fail to see things as they are, and we fail to realize just how easy the way out is. Emotions pull the strings of our reason and it’s impossible to have a clear, objective viewpoint while you are upset. That’s why we need to get help.

“Get yourself together, man” He said, earning quite a confused look “There’s no use in saying that’s just the way you are and that you’ll lose her, you need to think of just how much she means to you, and decide if it’s worth making the effort of changing. Is she worth the effort?”

“But I…”

“IS SHE WOTRH THE EFFORT?” 

“Yes, of course she is!” 

“Then that’s it. You are in control of your life. Just because you are the tough leader of the football team it doesn’t mean you can’t be sensitive sometimes. Just because you are a winner, it doesn’t mean you can’t lose or make mistakes every now and then. And just because you are popular and successful, it doesn’t mean you can’t feel uncomfortable with yourself and want to make a change” He stated, assuredly, yet comforting “I can’t tell you what to do or how to do it, but all I can say is that your current way of acting had hurt many people in the past, including me, and maybe Isabella. What to do with that information is up to you” 

Don’t you dare consider it an act of sympathy, totally not. Yuuri himself knew it had been nothing but pure selfishness, of showing off his knowledge, the sole power he had gained from always being the victim. Keeping himself quiet and alert had given him time to observe people a lot, to analyze their behavior, and to reach some few conclusions. The main one being he didn’t like people. Well, he didn’t like _talking_ to people, since he had a hard time trusting them and opening up. But he did like listening to them, he did like getting to know them, and building the twisted bridges between their feels and their actions. 

He was still trying to do that with himself, honestly. But understanding other people kind of helped him understand himself. And vice versa. 

JJ was in awe. Not only because it was the first time he had ever heard the nerd voice such a long speech without stuttering, but also because it was true. Yuuri wasn’t that bad at language, apparently, he was bad at confidence. And now that he had got himself some trust, he had shown what he was truly capable of: brilliance. Yuuri Katsuki was brilliant. And even though he didn’t realize it, and hell, he probably never would, people around him were beginning to notice. Starting with Viktor, Phichit, Yurio, and now a thunderstruck JJ; who had been left alone to deal with a bite on the soul. 

“Shit, I want to punch you again” He said, causing the other to stiffen “Don’t worry, I won’t” 

“Well…why though?” 

“Because you are right”

Yuuri smiled, kind of smugly, but also with some hint of tenderness. There was nothing left to say, really, he had done all he could, and he hadn’t need to restore to the secrets Viktor told him. Because that guy needed no information about his girlfriend, he needed information about himself, and somehow he had been able to help him.

As they were getting back to class though, silent, since it was awkward as hell, Yuuri couldn’t help but asking:

“Why did you tell me all this? I mean, I know you thought I maybe had information you may use…but why did you trust me?” 

JJ turned to look at him, arching a brow, not really aware of the response himself. He shrugged, looking around the hallway, as if maybe the answer was hiding in the corners or inside some locker, but all he got back was silence, and the demanding insistence on the other’s unblinking eyes. 

“I don’t know…you are easy to talk to, I guess” He said, as if it didn’t matter at all. But at that exact moment, something clicked inside of Yuuri. Something important “I still hate you though” 

Yuuri sneered, way too content with himself to even care, grabbing the handle to his classroom’s door and giving his back to the arrogant quarterback. He had way more important stuff to think about.

“Don’t worry, I hate you too”

“No, no…no…definitely not…no…” Viktor scrolled down the webpage with frustration, scanning the thousands of job announcements popping up but feeling disgusted with each one of them “…no, no way in hell…no…why would they need a communications graduate at a prison??” 

“Viktor…could you put that thing down already?” Yuuri, who was using the ice rink for its true purpose which was, effectively, ice skating, couldn’t believe the man had taken his laptop with him and was looking for a job instead of doing his favorite sport “You’ve been searching for hours”

“Just a second…ten more pages”

“Come on!” He insisted, leaning on the railing and sulking at him “I want to show you something” 

“Show me what?”

“Remember the choreography I told you I was preparing?”

Viktor raised his head from the screen for the first time since they got there. And Yuuri smirked, satisfied, fully welcoming the attention. 

“You finished it?? You want me to see it??” He closed the laptop and the boy nodded proudly, doing some final sloppy coils in the ice before skating to the center “Come on then!” 

“Could you please turn on the music? The song’s already on, you just need to press play” 

“Oh, so you had all prepared beforehand? Was this a surprise?” He teased, earning an annoyed sigh as a reply as he reached for the speaker’s remote “What song did you chose?”

“Oh, you’ll have to listen. I don’t think you know it, though…” He noticed Viktor was about to press play “Wait! Not yet” 

Before the man could question the delay, he turned to see Yuuri taking off his jacket, and revealing an unforeseen costume that dropped Viktor’s jaw open. It was a dark blue, sober and beautiful, with sparkles spread all around his back and shoulders like a miniature starry night. A patch from a different material decorated the hind, together with a delicate wine and green design that drew itself symmetrically across most his back. It was refined and serene, yet demanding attention, demanding every possible stare, monopolizing desire.

Yuuri’s cheeks were blushed, half because of the rink’s cold, and half because he had never used a costume before. His mother had helped him sew it, which was an extra add of embarrassment, but it turned out to look fairly good. At least he had thought so, as he stared at himself in the mirror the night before. But right then, for Viktor to see, it was a totally different experience. Who cared about the mirror’s opinion, honestly? It wasn’t his own eyes in the reflection he wanted to impress. Absolutely not. His true public were much lighter eyes, of an intense sky blue, that were now mercilessly scanning him from across the railing. 

“I know this is kind of silly...” He said, testing the fabric between his fingers and laughing nervously “It used to be a dress from my mom so…” 

“You look so good!” Viktor squealed, covering his mouth and jumping in his place, totally fantasized “Oh my god, Yuuri, this is amazing! You look stunning!” 

The guy felt like his own body temperature would melt the ice under his feet. Was it possible to feel even more self-conscious after praising? 

“You think so?” 

“Absolutely! In fact, I need you to come right here so that I can squish you” 

“Not now, idiot. I’m going to skate” He giggled, looking away “We’ll leave the hugs for later” 

Viktor sulked, but it was just for the show, since in reality he was actually thankful for the confirmation that there would be, eventually, some squishy hugs. He pointed at the play button, asking for permission, and felt himself bubble with excitement as he received the approving nod. 

The first piano notes felt like continuous, lineal droplets. Dews of sweet melancholy falling coldly, gradually, onto Viktor’s steaming chest. Yuuri started the choreography like he was taking a deep breath, inhaling to the rhythm, letting his hands follow the path of the taken air and letting his head fall backwards like he was falling back to sleep.

His feet began moving, slowly at first, following the music’s calm melody, as if his body were merely being pushed by the tune’s chilly wind. His grace as a dancer was present even in the slightest, most trivial of movements, it showed, it tainted the whole choreography with softness and delicacy and almost liquid fluidity, as if it were diluted in water. As if each piano note were drops of watercolor, dispersed and drawn by the patterns of Yuuri’s feet. 

Viktor watched carefully, attention fully set on him. His instincts as a former skater urged him to check on the technique, the accuracy of the procedure, but he was just too mesmerized to focus. His dancing had him out of his mind, there was no way to concentrate in details when everything was so perfectly melted and smooth; every step, every expression, every movement of his hand, it was all part of the same flow, the same heartbeat, the same emotion Viktor was currently drowning at. 

He attempted his first jump. During the past few months they had gone over all the different jumps, most of which Yuuri had already mastered on its simple form. He still had a hard time with doubles, especially axel and lutz, but he had managed to land them three or four times each. Right then, however, he was going for his strongest one, the double salchow, which he landed perfectly. 

Viktor bit a smile and clapped, remembering how hard it was for him the first time he ever got it right, and feeling immensely proud of the progress. 

The music began to get deeper, with more instruments adding to the mix, and Yuuri making sure not to dishonor any of them with his thorough, flawless dancing. When the time for the second jump came though, a double flip, his hand touched the ice. Viktor breathed in and closed his eyes for a fragment of second, knowing how the kid was usually discouraged by his own mistakes, and fearing it might affect his performance. But right then, he showed no signs of resignation. In fact, he looked as fierce as ever. He continued with the choreography as it nothing happened, giving his all, breathing in and out the puffs of music and closing his eyes, getting lost in the melody once again.

Then, he tried it again. He stumbled, almost touching the ice again but he didn’t. It didn’t look as graceful as it could and he knew it, but he didn’t care. He flowed on, becoming the sequence, being just a puppet at the will of music. 

The song kept getting more and more intense, the drops of piano at the beginning were now a dainty drizzle, driven by the hums of a violin, pushing Yuuri for his next jump, which was supposed to be a simple axel. But when he was about to get into the air, he made it a double. He fell, of course, because of the improvisation, but got up immediately again with his pants covered in hoarfrost. Viktor hissed, knowing that probably hurt, but there were no signs of pain on the skater’s face, just sheer determination, and the certainty he was going to nail that jump. 

However, as frustration and will mixed up and forced him to try it again right away, the stiffness from the previous fall was still present, and although the technique was perfect his legs wobbled, and he had to press his hand onto the ice as not to fall again. But it didn’t work. The impact had been so heavy his arm didn’t bare it and let him collapse once more. This time Viktor was seriously worried, the fall had been pretty bad and Yuuri really looked like he was in pain for a second.

But he stood up once again, and went on with his performance, not minding the scratched skin of his palm and blurring of his sight. 

The music got slower, calmer, going back to just the piano drops falling like tears, rolling gently, as if falling through Yuuri’s cheeks. The music wasn’t the only thing slowing down, it made the skater calm too, it forced him to breathe in once again, concentrate in the nothingness, let his feet move on their own. And when the moment came for him to jump once again, he stayed true to his plans this time and went for an easy double toe loop, which he landed flawlessly.

More and more drops of piano began to sunk into the melody, flooding it, causing the perfect rainfall for Yuuri to engage in his step sequence. And so, with the song reaching its peak and his heart following the thunderstorm, he did what he did the best: he danced. He danced, and danced, and danced, uncaring about the pain in his hand, uncaring about the blue pair of eyes staring at him from aloof, uncaring about the technique. He only cared about one thing, and that was no caring at all. 

He wanted to forget everything, forget his shame, his fears, his insecurities. He wanted to forget who he was, to evaporate in the melody, lost himself in the music and never be found again. Not even his family would be able to take him out of his high, not even Phichit or Yurio, and not even Viktor. He was his and only his, he only belonged to the ice and to the harmony, and his sole purpose was to finish that dance. He wanted to show that he, Yuuri Katsuki, didn’t have to fit anywhere. He didn’t have to fill no one’s expectations. He was shapeless and free, perfect, elusive and wild, and he could do whatever he set his mind at. 

_“Look at me, Viktor. Look what I have become”_

And right then, when he didn’t feel like a skater, when he didn’t feel like a person anymore, but just an amorphous, abstract bundle of feelings, heartbeats and love, he jumped into the air and performed a perfect double axel, landing it neatly and smooth, smiling to himself as he heard Viktor’s strangled gasp across the room.

By the moment the music ended, graceful and poignant with its last piano deeper beads, Yuuri was posing in the middle of the ice with one hand on his heart and the other extended towards Viktor, who was having a hard time keeping his eyes dry. 

As soon as there was silence, it was interrupted by his claps and sobbing giggles, as he unlocked the door to the rink and opened his arms invitingly for a hug. 

Yuuri met him half-way, as teary and emotional, skating all the way to his arms and throwing himself onto his chest, burying his face on his shoulder. 

He had done it. He had really done it.

They both let their bodies tangle together, already familiar with the other’s shape, molding perfectly, instinctually, like a two-pieced puzzle it was just too easy to build. They laughed, not because it was funny, but because they needed to let their bliss out somehow, they needed it to echo, to pour and show just how utterly happy they were, how they didn’t want to acknowledge there was a life beyond the rink.

“You were so beautiful, shit” Viktor mumbled against his neck, pulling him closer, feeling him pant tiredly between his arms “You were so, so beautiful” 

However, as he attempted one of his python hugs and squished him harder, he heard Yuuri wince in pain.

“Ouch!” He pulled away, clutching his own wrist with ache. 

“Oh my god, are you hurt??” Viktor gripped him by the shoulders, watching his face furrow in pain “Is it your hand??” 

The boy nodded, gritting his teeth as he tried to move his fingers, yet trying not unnecessarily worry the other by showing too much distress. 

“Yeah, I think it was when I failed the axel” He hissed, pressing the sore limb against his chest. 

“Shit, let me see” Viktor grabbed his hand carefully, not ignoring how he flinched even at the slightest contact, clicking his tongue in protest as he assumed the worst “This doesn’t look good” 

“Is it broken?” 

“I don’t know, I better take you to hospital” 

Carefully, he helped him step out from the ice, and made sure he didn’t fall as he put on his skate guards and jacket and assisted him to sit down. The mood had been totally broken, thanks to the inconveniences, and had Viktor sighing with concern. But as he was giving him a hand to take off his skates, Yuuri, however, started to chuckle again. 

Before the other could even ask what happened, he felt an intruder, familiar finger press onto his hairline, and looked up to meet a yearning, tickled pair of eyes staring at him from above. 

“Remember when?” He giggled, oblivious to the so called calamity, not really caring about his injury right then. At all. 

Viktor smiled fondly, tying his shoes with a double knot, and leaning in to leave a nostalgic, déjà vu kiss. 

He didn’t have to worry, Yuuri was tough, tougher than anyone he had ever met, and he had gone through so much more than some stupid, failed double axel. 

“Of course, of course I remember”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY FELLAS I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS I CERTAINLY ENJOYED WRITING IT!!! AJKGHNSKLAHJSLKDJVHBLSJRKVG  
> So, the news:  
> I was thinking of creating a tumblr blog dedicated to YOI, because I won't get over this story that easily, and maybe it would be cool if you could send me prompts about this AU or about canon or about anything and I could maybe write them, idk, I'm hype as fuck. Would you like that? Let me know!  
> You can follow me and ask me questions and stuff in my main blog in the meantime, I'm justmeandmysillystuff! :D


	11. Why does every fucking teenage story end with a prom scene??

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS THE END OF THE STORY, I AM DEAD. I ALMOST CRIED WRITING IT. HELP.

“Don’t move, sweetheart! I don’t want you to get pinched with a needle!” 

Yuuri stood still, standing in the middle of the living room with his arms open like a crucifix. Apparently, the “baby of the family was not such a baby anymore”, and his suit kind of didn’t fit for prom. At first he panicked, since he thought he had put on weight again, but then he realized his mother was exaggerating and that they just needed to unstitch the hem of his sleeves and trousers, which apparently required quite a lot of needles.

And so there he was, immobile, not wanting to be a victim of accidental apiculture.

“Mom, I need to sneeze” 

“Hold it in! If you move you may get hurt!” 

“Yeah but…” His nose furrowed, trying to cease the tickles “I can’t…” 

“This would be much easier if you hadn’t sprained your wrist, honey” She mumbled, holding a pin between her lips, somehow managing not to drop it nor swallow it “I wouldn’t need as many needles if you could move your hand properly and help me” 

He couldn’t complain, honestly, since she was kind of right. It had been some few weeks since the accident at the ice rink with Viktor, but although he didn’t have to wear a cast anymore he was still bandaged, and he needed to be careful. He did feel kind of useless, since he had to ask people to help him with literally everything, and he just wanted to tell the poor woman to give up already and let his suit look ugly, he didn’t care. He wanted to leave for prom already, and he really, really needed to sneeze. 

_Click!_

And, just to make the situation even more uncomfortable, there was his father, taking pictures of the whole process. 

Someone needed to tell that man that the thing about prom is that it’s just a party, not an entire festive day; and he needed no pictures of his beloved senior prom day from the moment he woke up that morning and the flash made him fall out of bed, to the moment he forgot his underwear when he took a shower and had to run naked out from the bathroom.

“Smile, son!” He kept saying.

But Yuuri was sure most of the pictures of that moment so far were just him making unpleasant faces as not to sneeze. 

Mari was there at the back, leaning against the doorframe, doing absolutely nothing and laughing about everything, perfectly playing her role as an older sibling. 

“You look like a scarecrow” She mocked, imitating his pose.

“Don’t be rude, Mari” His father kept taking photos, which Yuuri thought was much more invasive than his sister’s jokes “Look at the camera, Yuuri!” 

“Ouch! Mom, I think you needled me!” 

“Sorry!” She kept on sewing, trying to be more careful “By the way, do you need us to pick you up from the party later on? I don’t think it’s a good idea you return alone, and the train doesn’t work at those hours” 

Standing still for more than twenty minutes wasn’t a good idea, apparently, since his blood was beginning to drain to his swollen feet and he was getting kind of lightheaded. Maybe that’s the sole reason he didn’t blush right then, he had no blood on his upper body to tint his cheeks, and if he weren’t about to faint maybe he would have been thankful about it. Since, he knew, the conversation was about to get uncomfortable. 

“Uhm, no, thank you. I’m leaving with someone else” 

“Oh, that’s great! Will they give you a ride home?”

“Ehm…actually…” He trailed off, sweating nervously “I got invited to their house…you know, to sleep, for them not to take the trouble to drive me all the way here and…” 

His mother stopped sewing his pants and raised her head to look at him, her plump moon-face bright with surprise and her eyes opened wide. He must have been blushing though, since her eyes were fixed on him like he had something written on his forehead. 

If that was the case, it probably read “IM GETTING LAID TONIGHT”. Bold and in capital letters. 

“Oh, Yuuri! You didn’t tell us you had a date! I thought you were going with Phichit!” It was his father who spoke first, surprisingly, since his mother seemed in trance “Or…are you dating Phichit?”

“What? No, no!” 

He had, at some point, told his parents about his homosexuality. They hadn’t really made a fuss about it, honestly, they just shrugged it off. In fact, Hiroko said she already knew, since a mother’s instinct never failed. 

Yuuri was in no place to question that, but he was actually thankful they weren’t bothered by his true self.

Right then, however, his true self was getting himself in quite an awkward situation. 

“Oh, so who is it then?” His father insisted on asking “I have no problem with you having a date but I want to know who he is!” 

“I’m going with Phichit, but just as friends, I already told you so” He tried to dismiss the unanswered question, since he was a really bad liar and he didn’t like hiding things from his parents. He had done it way too many times already. 

“Yeah but whose house are you sleeping at?” The inquiries kept coming, and the poor guy felt like he was about to throw up “I thought you told us Phichit was leaving with some other friends of his” 

“Yuuri, honey, are you ok?” His mother blinked “You are as white as a sheet!”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine” 

“Please tell us where you are sleeping, sweetheart, we need to know where you’ll spend the night!” 

While Yuuri wanted to use his stupid tie to hang himself from the ceiling right then, Mari had fallen into a silent laughing fit. Being the only one who understood the “I’m dating my counselor” dilemma, she was having quite a fun time listening to the conversation. 

“Uhm…I…”

“Is he a good driver?? Kids nowadays are really reckless on the wheel! I don’t want you to get in an accident…”

“Oh, no, he isn’t like that! He’s…” 

“So you’ve been in his car before?” Shit “How long have you known this person, Yuuri? Is he your boyfriend??” 

“Uhm, well, I…”

“Yuuri! You have a boyfriend!?” His mother dropped the can of needles as she stood up abruptly, grabbing his face between her hands and peppering him with kisses “Oh my god! Did you hear that Toshiya?? Our baby has a boyfriend!” 

“I never said he was my…!” 

“Congratulations, son!” His father interrupted him, shaking his hand as if it weren’t sprained. 

“Why didn’t you tell us, honey?? You need to bring him home for dinner sometime!” 

By this point, Mari was cracking up out loud. 

“Yeah, Yuuri!” She mocked “I want to know him too!” 

“Mari!” He snapped at her, but cleared his throat and calmed down as he remembered he had no reason to be nervous in his parent’s eyes. He needed to act cool “I think you are jumping to conclusions, you are exaggerating, we just…” 

“Is he a gentleman?” They weren’t even listening to him “I don’t want…how is it that kids call it nowadays…fuckboys! I want no fuckboys in this house!” 

Yuuri gave up. 

“Don’t worry, he’s good, he’s…he’s nice” He was his counselor “But we haven’t been dating for long so I just didn’t think I should introduce him yet and…” 

“What’s his name?” 

“Viktor” He stuttered. 

He was going to have to make sure they didn’t meet him before the graduation. 

“Such a lovely name! Isn’t it, Toshiya??” His mother swanned.

“It is, dear!” His father wanted to keep on asking questions, but he got quite distracted by his daughter’s distant laughter “What are you laughing at, Mari? Your brother got a boyfriend before you!” 

The tables had been turned, and now it was Yuuri’s time to chuckle pleasantly.

“Jealous, Mari?” He teased. 

However, as the conversation gave a sudden turn into safe sex precautions, Yuuri wasn’t laughing anymore.

Viktor was an excellent actor. 

Maybe he could consider moving to Hollywood and becoming an actor, now that he would have to leave his job as the counselor. In fact, he wondered why he hadn’t devoted himself to acting on the first place, instead of studying damn communications. He totally had the talent.

I mean, he had been standing at the gymnasium for two straight hours, pretending to be helping out with the prom preparations, and no one had approach to question him why he was doing absolutely nothing.

The key was to look totally confident and self-assured about having been stepping on that same floor tile the whole evening. No one was going to question him if he didn’t question himself. It was a matter of focalization. That floor tile was his everything, his all, and he totally shouldn’t have been helping other teachers with the decorations and the food tables. Totally not. That was his place, his purpose; he was a totally functional part of society. 

See? He could convince anyone. At least, no one had stopped to tell him off so far. 

Plus, he was sure he looked absolutely gorgeous standing there in his suit. 

Some of the students (mostly males, since girls took quite a long time to get into those dresses) were beginning to get there, and teachers were getting paranoid because they hadn’t hanged the oh so important “welcome” sign on top of the stage yet. Maybe he was supposed to do that…oops. 

He eyed the entrance nonstop, occasionally getting distracted by the teenagers making stupid faces at the photographer, and girls showing off their dresses like they were on the red carpet. He recognized most of them, since they had been at his office at least once. He wondered how were they doing, how did they felt. Had Stefani finally started believing in her own capacities, instead of listening to her way too exigent mother? There were rumors going around that she got accepted at a really good university. And what about Laura? Was she still self-conscious about her body? He hoped so, she looked beautiful in that lilac dress. 

He sighed. Damn, he was going to miss those kids.

Had he been useful, after all? Had he been able to help? What happened with Yurio had given him the clue that maybe he hadn’t been that incompetent, after all. Maybe some students just went to his office to skip a class, which was sad. Or maybe some students truly believed in his capacities as a counselor, which was even sadder. He didn’t know what to think anymore.

Because there was a thought he couldn’t get out of his head, a doubt that he had been asking himself ever since the very first moment he sat on that office, but it wasn’t a concrete question. It was more like a sensation, a curious hunch, a feeling that things weren’t working as they were supposed to work at that school.

Correction: not only at school. Education was fucked up everywhere.

It was unbelievable just how many kids were dealing with depression or anxiety out there. Totally sane kids, needless to add. Normal, healthy teenagers, who could be living a happy, typical adolescence, were now struggling and falling as victims of their own messed up thoughts. Just how many alcoholics had he counseled? How many self-harmers? How many girls with eating disorders? And all of them looked so fairly standard walking down the hallways, chatting as if nothing happened, playing their role and trying to please the system, only to bawl their eyes out five minutes later at his office. 

And no teacher had bothered to make an intervention. Not a single one. He had once helped a kid correcting a failed literature essay that explicitly talked about suicide, and the professor’s sole reaction had been a big red F in the back of the paper and a note saying he needed to improve his punctuation. Or what about that girl Otabek had met at his poetry club? She not only wrote devastating poems, but also cried every time she read them out loud.

Where were those kids’ parents? Did they know what they were going through? Were they planning to do something about it? All the few reunions with parents he had managed to appoint had rounded over the same conclusion: kids will be kids.

Was that how kids were supposed to be nowadays? Stressed and disheartened? If things went on to be that way, then kids wouldn’t be kids anymore. Kids would be miserable. 

A hand shaking his shoulder woke him up from his own thoughts, and he turned to look at a very elegant Christophe, wearing a white suit.

“Have you seen that mural?” He asked, handing him a glass of sugary punch, and pointing at the back’s wall. It was a glorious painting of a tiger clinging from a cliff, digging its nails at the border and jaws clenched with effort, about to reach the top “It’s amazing. Once a year the art teacher choses his best student and lets them paint a mural. Can you believe a student did that??” 

Viktor smiled, taking a small sip of his yet alcohol-free drink. 

“I have a feeling I know who painted it” 

The style was unmistakable, and so was the talent. I mean…look at that shading! The realism of the fur! The setoff of the tightening muscles beneath that thick layer of skin seemed so damn real! It was mesmerizing! And it looked considerably more optimistic than previous paintings by that same artist, to be honest. The tiger was about to reach the top, he was finally getting out from his cliff. And his expression showed no signs of despair or exhaustion, but sheer determination.

He talked to Christophe for a while, looking at the kids as they came in, and remembering how things used to be much different back when they were in high school. They kept complaining about everything, from the stupid music choices to just how awkward kids seemed to be nowadays. Why were they just standing there?? It was their prom! They were supposed to dance! The party had barely started by then, and no one had dared to give the first step into the dancefloor. They just stood in a corner and pretended to care a lot about the decorations, which made the two teachers terribly upset and had them ranting about the calamities of that new generation. Where they on their twenties or in their fifties? They sounded like two old rags, Viktor couldn’t help but notice.

And he also couldn’t help but notice a certain someone entering through the main door. 

He saw Phichit, Leo and Guang-Hong taking pictures at the entrance, making the silliest of poses and messing up with the photographer, trying to convince him to take a picture of them making a human pyramid but taking too long because none of them was strong enough to lift one another. But that wasn’t what really caught his attention right then. Walking past his friends, leaving them behind for a moment, a way too familiar someone seemed to be approaching him slyly. 

He was wearing a dark blue shirt and a lighter tie, all peeping from under the collar of an elegant black suit his owner didn’t look very comfortable in. His hair was pushed back neatly, and his thick glasses were nowhere to be seen. He looked gorgeous, in Viktor’s judgement, absolutely stunning. And he was about to make that same remark out loud, when he remembered they were still in school grounds.

Christophe winked at his friend and left as soon as he smelled the romantic tension, and kindly disappeared in a cloud of dust to leave the two of them alone for the while. There wasn’t much they could do or say as people kept arriving and the place got more and more crowded, full of possible witnesses, and they weren’t willing to take the risk of being discovered. But just a quick greeting hurt anyone, right?

“Hey there, handsome” Viktor said, in the lowest voice possible, scientifically targeting to be heard just two meters round.

“Hello, Mr.Nikiforov” Yuuri cooed, smirking playfully, and spinning a little to show off his outfit “What do you think? Do I look good?” 

“Hmm, quite stunning, yes” He said, keeping a straight face “But I still believe your training tight pants make your butt look much rounder and better” 

The guy laughed, his adorable piggy chuckles, that made him want to pull him into a hug and scream just how lovely he was for everyone to see. But he couldn’t do that, for obvious reasons, so he just limited himself to smile fondly and look at him like he had hung the moon in the sky. 

“You are an idiot” He giggled, looking around to check if anyone was staring at them funnily, before he arched his brows seductively “You better save those comments for latter”

“Oh?? Are you trying to provoke me?” 

“Hmm, maybe…” 

“Such a little tease you are” They both laughed “Go, have fun with your friends, we’ll talk later” 

“Yeah, there’s something I need to tell you…but it can wait” 

Something he needed to tell him? Viktor felt curious now. But he noticed Minako eyeing him from across the room, and he realized he couldn’t keep the conversation on for much longer.

“Well, I’m still the counselor. Both my office and my services are still open for you” He said, gesturing him to leave “But for now, go enjoy your prom night” 

Yuuri grinned, nodding, and understanding they were still in the public’s eye and that later on they would have their alone time.

“Aye, sir” 

He eyed his friends, who were still trying to get a decent (indecent) picture at the entrance, and saw Phichit signaling him to join them. He sighed and shrugged, not really wanting to deny the offer. 

And so he ran, with not so gentle intentions, all the way to their still in-process human pyramid.

“No, no, no!” Leo exclaimed, realizing what he was about to do “Yuuri, no!” 

But it was too late, the guy had already throw himself on top of them, and completely destroyed what could have been a perfectly good pyramid.

The photographer had captured the moment perfectly, and he was already done with them so he turned to look for other students. 

Meanwhile, the group laughed hysterically on the floor, all pushing and hitting Yuuri for messing up their lovely picture.

“You are such an idiot!” Phichit chuckled, ruffling his friend’s hair quite aggressively.

“I couldn’t help myself…you were taking too long for just a three person pyramid!” 

“Oh, sorry, Mr. Athlete! Didn’t mean to offend you!” Leo added, pushing his shoulder.

Yuuri was about mention it wasn’t his fault they were all slackers, but before he could even open his mouth he was interrupted by the loud steps of some animal print sneakers, standing right beside them.

“What the fuck are you all doing on the damn floor??” 

“Yurio??” They all said in unison, unable to believe the blonde mirage “What are you doing here??” 

His looks were as ridiculous as ever, since he was wearing a smart full suit but with his everyday leopard shoes, all wrecked and disjointed. Right behind him, as always, stood a solemn Otabek, who was also staring at them in confusion. 

“I only came here because they are going to credit me for the mural” He said, pointing at the painting “Maybe they’ll give me a prize or some shit” 

“Oh, right! The mural!” Guang-Hong exclaimed, getting up from the floor “It looks amazing, Yurio!” 

“Thanks, I guess” 

“Yeah, it looks great!” Phichit observed, not wanting to admit he hadn’t even seen it before “You are really talented” 

Otabek patted his friend’s shoulder, seeing he had got struck by praise. 

“You really outdid yourself this time, Yura. It looks fantastic” 

Yurio, who still wasn’t familiar with this whole “social interaction” thingy, let alone being the center of attention, felt rather overwhelmed by all the eyes now solely focused on him. Why were they even looking at him?? They were supposed to stare at the painting, dammit! Not give the artist a stroke! 

Yuuri smiled, wanting to add his own applause to the praising choir, but noticing the poor kid was embarrassed enough already. Instead, he focused his attention on the DJ’s sudden music choice, and shook Phichit’s shoulder to tell him to listen. 

_“Oh don't you dare look back_   
_Just keep your eyes on me_   
_I said you're holding back_   
_She said shut up and dance with me”_

Phichit felt the planets aligning.

“Dude!” He tapped Yuuri manically “This is out jam, dude!” 

“Ugh, you sound like some Disney brainless chicks” Yurio rolled his eyes “Go dance already, you fuckers” 

They didn’t need to be asked twice.

 _This woman is my destiny_   
_She said oh oh oh_   
_Shut up and dance with me_

Waiting no more Phichit dragged Yuuri by the arm onto the dancefloor, although there were no people properly dancing yet, and they were the first idiots to ridicule themselves alone. Yuuri had always let himself be carried by Phichit’s cheekiness, admiring just how careless and unashamed he could be, and letting that audacity rub on him until he didn’t feel scared anymore. With the pass of time though (and with the pass of many embarrassing situations) he had slowly stopped feeling those nerves beforehand, and it didn’t take so long for him to become loose. 

Right then, however, he did feel kind of stupid.

People weren’t “dancing”, they were just standing there, occasionally moving a little or tapping their feet to the melody. How weren’t they dancing though?? That was an amazing song! How could they ignore the lure???

Ever since he was a kid, Yuuri had never been able to escape a good beat. Songs were catchy! Catchier than bubblegum in the hair! If he had the chance he had to dance, obligatorily, and with no exceptions. Even if he was in public, and no matter what variety of music, he would end up whistling or tapping his hand against his knee, following the authoritative ruling of the rhythm. 

So he let his friend spin him around as they bounced to the pace and laughed, almost screaming the lyrics, although they were barely hearable on top of the loud speakers.

Leo and Guang-Hong looked at them, then they looked at each other, and then they shrugged. They had no other option, had they? In so second they were in the middle of the dancefloor and giving their all, too, as Yurio and Otabek pretended they didn’t know them. 

Surprisingly, their spirit seemed to be contagious. Since in the eyes of the other students there weren’t signs of mockery but utter temptation, and instead of laughing (like Yuuri had thought they would) one by one they fell into the spell and started dancing too. 

In less than a minute, the dancefloor was crowded. Except for the grumpiest of students and some emo first years, everyone had let their shame aside and had entered the frenzy, and Yuuri couldn’t be possibly happier. He liked to have people dancing around, it was a familiar feeling to feel the room getting smaller and the oxygen running out. Believe it or not, he enjoyed it. It made him feel part of a something, part of that amorphous mass of people moving to the beat, and he didn’t matter. He didn’t matter at all. He was just another brick in the shaking wall, and it was fantastic. If people didn’t acknowledge his existence, then he kind of didn’t feel like acknowledging his own existence, either. And he could finally feel free from his restrains.

Only that, apparently, people were acknowledging him. Just like it happened at The Madmen Cage. His dancing was enthralling, even when he was just messing around, it was eye-catching and he knew it. He wasn’t just another body in the crowd.

Maybe he did it on purpose.

And maybe, just maybe, he didn’t mind being acknowledged, after all. 

At some point they managed to drag Yurio into the dancefloor. By force, obviously. With Otabek grabbing him by the legs and Phichit and Leo by the arms, while the punk kicked and screamed and insulted their entire lineage. He tried to escape their hold with claws and fangs, screeching and jumping like a cat thrown in water, until he finally managed to run away and hid in the other corner of the room. 

Yuuri laughed in the distance, still dancing in the middle of the teenage mob, until he felt someone tapping his shoulder. 

He could have expected it to be literally anyone but lovely and beautiful Sara Crispino, wearing a navy blue dress, and reaching her hand invitingly. 

“Yuuri, would you dance with me?”

He must have looked at her quite oddly, since she seemed nervous all of a sudden, and looked away from him with butterflies in her stomach and eyes. He hadn’t meant to arch a brow, it had been involuntary, the mere weight of confusion manifesting on his face. So he tried to mend it, and act like a proper gentleman (or, at least, a proper human being), and fighting against the emotional gravity that forced him to look jumbled as hell.

“Oh, eh, sure”

Close enough.

“Can you? I mean…with your hand like that…”

He had kind of forgotten about the sprain, so he actually had to take a look at his own hand to remember that it was, actually, still bandaged. 

“Oh, yeah, it’s fine”

As he was about to pull his typical move schedule, the same one he had used to dance with girls at Arthit’s party, it became obvious the DJ had other plans since he made quite an abrupt change in the music style. Apparently, he had kind of labeled Yuuri as the life of the party (quite an observant man) and decided to make him a favor now that he was finally about to dance with a pretty girl he could court (not such an observant man). So he started playing a slow, romantic song, suddenly flipping all the awkward spastic hopping into a steady slow dance.

Yuuri ineptly played along, his experience with saloon dance being limited to what he remembered from The Beauty and the Beast movie he had watched years ago, but he was actually glad to see Sara seemed to be more experienced. She took his bandaged hand in hers carefully, placing the other on top of his shoulder, and he understood he probably should hold her hip then. It wasn’t that hard. All he had to do now was move to the rhythm, and that was something he could perfectly perform. 

“You look uncomfortable” She said, all of a sudden, trying to break the ice without breaking Yuuri in the process. 

“Well, I am”

She laughed. 

It hadn’t been a joke. 

“What happened to your hand? Dancing accident?”

“Ice skating” He corrected, pettily.

“Oh, you ice skate too? Gosh, is there a thing you cannot do??”

Yuuri felt the collar of his shirt was way too tight, and had to take his hand away from Sara’s hip for a second to loosen his tie. He looked around in the search of something, anything, that wasn’t the drilling stare of those dark eyes, scanning him so thoroughly, as if she were expecting the answer for a question she never really asked (or Yuuri hadn’t really heard). 

He caught a glimpse of JJ dancing with Isabella, looking at each other with that affectionate magnetism only true fondness could provide. There was a speck of jealousness floating around his chest, and no matter how much Yuuri pretended not to notice, he just couldn’t deny it was there. Just as he couldn’t deny he wished he were dancing with Viktor. It made him feel guilty, since Sara was a really good person and he had nothing against her. But right then, with those icy blue eyes burning holes into the back of his head, and his own romantic fantasies he would always deny having…he couldn’t help feeling a little sad. 

At least JJ seemed happy, which meant that maybe his advice did help, after all. He saw him hug his girlfriend tightly and rest his chin on her shoulder, and as he caught Yuuri staring he gifted him a thumbs up. What had he done for that girl to forgive him, he had no idea. But Yuuri was glad they didn’t break up, and he was glad to be one of the reasons they didn’t.

Right then, however, it wasn’t the time to think about that. He was dancing with someone, and he was being kind of rude by acting so coldly. He really didn’t mean to be so distant, but there was a thought at the back of his head that just wouldn’t let him guard down in front of her, and had his hand sweating so badly under the bandage he could only pray for Sara not to notice.

“Sara, why did you download that video of me from Hasetsurumorhasit?” 

He wasn’t a discrete man.

“Which one?”

She didn’t look nervy, as if she didn’t have anything to hide nor shame to acknowledge. Which must have been thanks to her fresh, outgoing nature; Yuuri deduced, since he was actually accusing her of something rather bizarre.

“The one in which…well, I’m dancing with another guy. Michele had it in his phone and he said you had downloaded it” He explained, looking away “Why?” 

“Oh” She gasped, suddenly remembering, and trying to ignore the fact she should actually feel embarrassed “Not to be creepy or anything, but I’m a real fan of your dancing! You are just so talented, sorry! I didn’t mean to cause you any trouble!” 

Yuuri’s brain didn’t catch the words, as if he didn’t speak the same language.

“What??” 

“I’m such a weirdo! Sorry!” She kept apologizing between chuckles “I might actually have developed some kind of secret low-key crush on you” 

Now he certainly knew he didn’t speak the same language.

Since he couldn’t formulate a fucking proper sentence.

“Uh?? You had a…?? Eh??” He had tried to start the same sentence so many times already his mind was getting fuzzy. Like the verbal representation of erasing something so many times from a paper it ends up all blurry and scratched “What do you mean??” 

Sara laughed, again. 

Gosh, just how many times was he going to humiliate himself in one single song?? How long was that damn song anyways???

“I’m just saying that I kind of regret not talking to you sooner, I think we could have been good friends” She shrugged “It sucks high school is ending” 

“You…wanted to be my friend??” 

“Yeah. Is it that weird?” 

“Oh, no, I don’t think so” He smiled, flattered “It just doesn’t happen very often” 

This time, when Sara laughed, Yuuri did too. 

He had never thought someone could actually…admire him, from afar. He thought that in the public’s eye he was just this “irrelevant four-eyed looser who did ballet or some shit and always ordered the same pork dish at the cafeteria”. Maybe if he hadn’t spent so many years closed up and focused in himself and his own qualms, he would have realized there were actually people out there who esteemed him. 

Just how much had his insecurities taken away from him through his entire life? 

The thought was pushed aside for a while as the conversation went on. Sara was extremely nice to him (nothing to do with her brother). They talked about high school, anecdotes from past years and plans for the ones coming. He recalled that during their first year, they had been assigned to a history project together, and Michele had been so furious and adamant about the matter they had to split up. Then she asked him to teach her how to dance, to which Yuuri obviously replied she was a cheerleader, and she obviously knew what to dance alredy.

“Yeah, but not as great as you do!” Was her sole answer, and the sole insistence Yuuri needed to become her instructor. 

Meanwhile, Viktor watched the scene from afar. He observed their expressions, the bliss, the totally unnecessary touches as Yuuri guided her to the rhythm. He wished he could read lips so that he actually knew what they were saying to each other. But he didn’t need to know how to read lips to notice they were laughing intimately. 

And Yuuri didn’t need to know how to read lips, either, to understand what Viktor was angrily muttering in the corner as he saw them dance.

“Viktor wait!” Their laughter echoed through both their chest and the empty hallways, louder than the distant hum of the music they left behind “Where are we going…Ouch! Careful with my wrist!” 

“Sorry” The man giggled, softening the grip in his arm, as he dragged him around the empty school with hurried, clumsy steps “Wait a second, we are almost there!” 

Yuuri had been happily chatting and enjoying the marvelousness of the chocolate fountain (there was one, after all!) when he suddenly heard a not so accidental cough, and noticed Viktor trying to catch his attention from aloof. He had no doubts of what his intentions were as soon as he saw him pointing at the door and winking, cracking a playful smile. And after giving lame excuses to his friends only Phichit had enough knowledge to doubt, he left the gymnasium in a heartbeat.

“If we get caught I’m going to murder you” He whispered, looking at his surroundings paranoid.

“Correction: Minako will kill us both” 

Before Yuuri could state he wouldn’t let Minako steal the revenge from him, he suddenly noticed where they were heading. At the end of the main hallway, at the first floor, next to the computer lab and adjacent to the ladies’ room, there was a very special door. Well, the door wasn’t special itself. It was just wooden, as every other door at the school, and had a small opaque window that revealed nothing but blurry color figures. Inside, it was quite ordinary too. There was just a shelf; a plastic fake plant; a wheeled spinning, leathery chair; and a large desk that, hidden at the bottom of a drawer, still kept the Counseling for Dummies book. 

In there, they felt indestructible, as if it were bullet-proof. Or fear-proof, or secret-proof. Boy, if those walls could talk. Right then, Yuuri could almost hear them scream. Scream at him, repeating over and over all the things they saw, the confidences they heard, the happenings they witnessed. They knew too much. Those walls, and that desk, and the damn plant and the spinning couch; they had all been witnesses of the most important events of Yuuri’s life. 

That office had seen him open up, every day, arriving through that door and pouring his soul to Viktor. At first rather shyly, words tripping on top of each other as they left his mouth. Then, it became more natural, almost instinctual, a routine he no longer had to force himself to fulfill. Until, in the end, it turned into a necessity. It turned into a need to go there and talk, cry, laugh, whatever he was in the mood of doing. It was compulsory, unquestionable, to receive his daily dose of support, of never-ending sweetness and encouragement. His daily dose of Viktor.

He walked around the room, as if it were the first time he ever stared at it thoroughly. And it kind of was. Never had he seen it with those eyes, grown-up eyes, distant, aloof. Never had he walked that office thinking there would be a day he wouldn’t have it anymore. That day wasn’t that far away. In just one month he would graduate, he wouldn’t attend school anymore, and he would leave that office behind. 

But, apparently, he wouldn’t leave the counselor behind. 

“So many memories, huh?” That same man whispered, hugging him from behind, looping his arms around his waist and resting his chin on his shoulder “Can you remember the first time you were here?” 

Yuuri snorted. 

“I’ve been here before you came, just so you know”

“You know what I mean” Viktor complaint “I was talking about that time, when you asked for help with your literature essay”

“The one about The Lord of the Flies” 

“That one” He kissed his cheek “And then the Hasetsurumorhasit incident happened”

“Hmm, not even remind me of that” Yuuri said, getting free from the other’s hold to continue his quest around the office. He stopped in front of the desk, feeling the wood as if it were unknown, tracing his fingers over the clefts that a rather nervous pen had printed. He had a vague idea of who may be responsible for those “You helped me with so many projects though” 

“Fourteen, to be more accurate” Viktor specified, earning a snicker for an answer “Plus all the career talks and stuff”

Yuuri stiffened at the mention of that specific topic, the nostalgic smile on his face suddenly unlit.

“Yeah, about that…” 

He sat down on the desk, not missing the way Viktor’s eyes followed him thoroughly, worriedly. He hadn’t meant to sulk, since he wasn’t sad or upset, but the fretful drop of his lip had been almost instinctual. There was no need to be nervous; he had no excuse for his raising heartbeat but the inevitable presence of his evergreen anxiety. He knew his worries had no proper origin, there were nothing but spontaneous generation and quite absurd in the end. He was being ridiculously self-conscious, but he was about to reveal quite an intimate piece of information. 

What a better place to say it than it that office, though? 

“I…I already know what I want to study” He made a pause, taking in Viktor’s perplexed expression, trying not to choke on it “I want to study psychology. I want to be a guidance counselor” 

It was deliciously ironic, he knew. Everything about the situation was painfully satirical. Beginning by the fact he was sitting in the very same desk he had almost cried on a couple of months ago, claiming he had no idea of what to do with his future, and completing endless amounts of useless vocational tests. Plus…Him? Studying psychology? It seemed completely irrational for someone who had claimed to hate people throughout his whole life. Not to mention he was telling this to his own counselor, who had helped him decide on a career in not quite the typical way. 

The man had helped him break out from his own fogged mind, from his smothering thoughts that kept clouding his sight of the future. Before they met, Yuuri hadn’t even dared to think about tomorrow, since today already felt miserable enough. And now, out of the blue, there was his new found resolve to do something. Something, not anything. He had a clear purpose, a goal, he had given himself a mountain to climb and a view to look forwards too. A dream. Yuuri had a dream. He wanted to keep every kid out there from feeling the way he had. Hopeless, purposeless, alone. He wanted no more grumpy, gloomy gazes hiding between the floor tiles. He wanted schools to be a shelter, not a battlefield, and make sure students felt safe. He wanted to understand how feelings worked, he had neglected them for way too many years already, and he wanted to face them straightly. Just like those courage tests on TV in which frightened ladies were thrown into a shark tank to overcome their fear, Yuuri wanted to sink into his own infested mind. He needed to realize there was no reason to be afraid. 

The revelation was distressing from every angle, to be honest. Mainly because he was basically confessing just how influential Viktor had been in his life; how inspiring, how absurdly important. But also because he was sticking his nose into his business. What if Viktor thought he was being foolish, that he had no idea of what he was getting himself into? Psychology was a rather complicated career…What if he thought he was incapable of carrying it on? Maybe he would blame the love-struck effect. What if he thought he was being nothing but an immature, confused child, who got overwhelmed by his savior and now wished for nothing more than to wear his same cape? 

Hearing nothing but Viktor’s silence as an answer, he felt the heat beginning to taint his cheeks. He tried to look for more words, something to add, to defend his decision and his honor as something more than just an act of crude devotion. 

But before he could emit coherent sound from his babbling lips, he saw Viktor walking towards him slowly, wrapping his arms around him in a sweeping, needy hug. His body reacted quicker than his mind, because he didn’t waited till he comprehended to return the gesture and rest his face on the crook of his neck, pulling him closer, as close as he could without taking him onto the desk with him. He didn’t quite understand the reason for the affection yet, but hell he could use a hug right then, and he was not going to let that one slip. He felt him press tighter and tighter, printing warm pecks onto his shoulder, cheek and temple, and Yuuri wanted to melt right there and then, to turn into nothing but a pile of goo between his arms and get rid of the smothering devotion consuming him. But he was still a flesh and bone person, and all he could do to cease his ardor right then, was to hug him back.

“I’m so proud of you” Viktor’s voice echoed against Yuuri’s skin, through every corner of it, like a subcutaneous vibration “So, so proud” 

“You are?” He was barely able to mumble, speaking against his neck.

“Of course I am. You did it, you choose a wonderful career I’m sure you’ll be amazing at…way better than me”

Yuuri chuckled at that last comment, rubbing circles onto his back.

“Hey, don’t say that. You are the one who inspired me, after all” 

Viktor kind of broke the hug to look at him in the eye and Yuuri felt embarrassed. He had done it, he had said it out loud, and maybe he had crossed the boundaries of cheesiness.

“You inspire me so much, too” 

There didn’t seem to be such limits.

Before Yuuri could even question what those words meant, Viktor’s mouth was on his and he forgot about everything. The conversation, his studies, the office, the so distant party being held at that same building; they all merged into a trivial fog at the back of his mind. He returned the kiss with the same amount of passion, if not more, and dragged his fingers through the smooth skin of Viktor’s exposed throat. Because he was sitting at the desk, for once he was some few centimeters taller, and the man had to tilt his head upwards to meet his lips. He decided he liked that, and smiled pleasantly onto the kiss. 

“When did you decide it?” Viktor asked, venturing his hands under the other’s suit coat.

“Hmm, not so long ago” Yuuri sighed, enjoying the touch and wrapping his arms around his neck “I realized just how interesting human behavior can be, and just how heartwarming helping someone can feel” He said, pecking his lips again “I don’t want anyone to feel alone” 

Viktor grinned, softly stroking his cheek. If he had inspired such a noble ambition, then just how bad of a counselor could he possibly be?

He sunk into his mouth once again, kissing him slowly, thoroughly, as if the only wanted outcome was mutual asphyxiation. They had been waiting for that moment, not only through the night but through the week, since Yuuri was overly busy with exams and they hadn’t been able to meet outside the school grounds. And let’s just say that during a regular working day, it wasn’t a good idea to make out in his office. 

Viktor seemed to be quite needy, since he kept wandering his hands around not so innocent places and using every single chance he got to deepen the kiss. But no matter how much Yuuri wanted to respond to that hunger, he was still able to keep his head from floating to the clouds and ignore the fact someone might catch them. So, as he realized lust was about to push him into oblivion, he started to protest against the other’s mouth until he broke the kiss. 

“Sorry” he said, trying to catch his breath “Someone may come in, this is just too reckless”

Viktor suddenly got off Yuuri, leaving him all alone and breathless on top of the desk, only to walk towards the door instead.

“Yeah, it would be…” He trailed off, fishing for something inside his pocket “…if I didn’t have the keys” 

Yuuri’s face went from confusion to shock to an impish smirk in just a fragment of second. He crooked his head to the side and narrowed his eyes, crossing his legs slowly, making sure he looked ridiculously inviting. Viktor locked the door, his stare fixed on the way the guy’s hand was now leisurely unbuttoning the upper button of his shirt and loosening his tie, exposing his neck. He took this as an unspoken sign of approbation, and wasted no time to walk back between his hand’s reach. 

However, the other made no move to touch him. He just stared at him, teasingly, waiting for him to start the job.

“What do you have in mind, _Mr. Nikiforov_?” 

Was it possible to get hard so fast? Or should he see a doctor??

Wasting no time he grabbed Yuuri by the knee and parted his crossed legs, walking between them and caging him onto the desk. His warm mouth aimed for his throat and sucked at it as soon as it was within reach, and he was glad to hear the content sigh of pleasure escaping his partner’s lips. There were suddenly fingers gripping at his neck, raking through the short hairs of his undercut, telling him exactly where to target his ration and center his attention. Meanwhile, another hand (just because it was bandaged it didn’t mean it was going to stay away from the fun) sunk beneath his dress shirt and caressed the heated skin of his stomach, feeling how the muscles tightened to the contact. 

It was Viktor’s turn to exhale lustfully, loving the gentle tickles going up and down his torso, and loving even more the devotion with which those hands petted. He was naturally cuddly, he couldn’t help it, and he just adored how Yuuri seemed willing to coddle him to exhaustion.

“You sure you don’t want to go back to the party?” He asked, in a sudden burst of generosity, since the last thing he wanted right then was for him to go “You are missing your prom night”

“Nah, I have a social interaction limit. After a while of socializing then I just want to go home” 

“Do I not count as social interaction?” He mocked “Last time I checked I was still human” 

“No” Yuuri giggled merrily, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and pulling him further beyond the boundaries of his personal space “You feel more like home” 

They weren’t sure who initiated the kiss again, eagerly, almost predatorily; and they weren’t exactly sure either of who made the move to have them both leaning on top of the desk, with Viktor lying on top of Yuuri and rubbing against him as if he wanted to disintegrate by erosion. 

Their kisses became wanton, deep and wet, making ridiculously loud noises for the mere clash of lips and tongues. Not to mention the moans and whines. They knew they had to keep it silent in case someone happened to walk through the hallways but the situation was getting out of their hands (or way too into their hands?) as the kisses grew hotter and their pulses faster. 

It didn’t take long for Viktor’s shirt to become half open and his pale chest and throat to be covered reddening love-bites; nor for Yuuri’s belt to be unbuckled and his briefs unashamedly intruded.

Apparently, that divine office was about to witness yet another scandal.

“Holy shit” Yuuri whispered, throwing his head back in delight.

“Watch your mouth, dear” Viktor teased, lapping at his ear shell “we are still in school grounds”

“Are you seriously telling me that with a hand around my dick?”

“Well, you have a point there” 

Yuuri bit his lip, hiding his face on the other’s shoulder again, trying to keep his pleasured noises to himself and save the whole school from knowing he was about to come into his counselor’s hand. He was a teenager who still lived with his parents, for fuck’s sake, he was supposed to know how to hide moans. When he noticed his silence wasn’t really working, he restored to kissing once again, digging into Viktor’s mouth as if his life depended on it.

And it kind of did depend on it since, as they had mentioned before, if Minako happened to listen she was certainly going to kill them. 

“Ah, Viktor” he murmured, breathily, unable to keep his hips from buckling any longer “Fuck me” 

Still, Viktor wasn’t willing to comply just yet. Although his dick was basically screaming bloody murder inside his pants right then, he still hadn’t prepared his partner properly. At the moment, not having lube or condoms in hand didn’t seem as a problem. Probably, if they got further, they would have noticed that it was, indeed, a problem. But they were too caught up in the current frenzy, too submerged into each other, to even consider the advantages of safe sex. 

There was something exciting about doing it inside the office, something naughty and enthralling, that had them way more involved than during previous encounters. Not to mention the previous emotional context of the situation. Right then, the universe was just a trifling background behind the touch of fervent hands. Nothing really mattered but the demands of pretentious fingers and the taste of thirsty tongues.

“Hmm, Viktor wait” Yuuri whimpered, hanging from the edge of both the desk and his orgasm “I’m coming” 

Viktor didn’t stop, at all. Instead, he lowered the other’s pants even lower, and tried to take a finger to further, yet untouched areas.

“Good” 

However, as soon as he barely entered the digit, Yuuri clung onto his shoulders furiously and let his body jerk under the effects of arousal. Viktor smiled placidly, satisfied with the results and determined to perform his second trick of the night, when he was suddenly interrupted by an unexpected noise.

Apparently, Yuuri wasn’t the only thing coming, since they were interrupted by a thunderous knock on the door.

Jumping out from their skins, both lovers gasped onto each other’s skin and broke apart abruptly, feeling the sudden absence of heat as a cold lap against their sweaty shirts. They wanted to keep it silent, in the ridiculous hope that whoever was out there hadn’t really acknowledged their presence yet. But even if that were the case, the fact Viktor dropped the fricking desk lamp would have given them away.

Yet, before they could seriously fall into a panic attack, they heard a way too familiar laughter coming from the outside, and Yuuri almost considered a prison sentence for murder rather than for having sex with his counselor.

“Phichit!!” He screamed, fixing his clothes and his hair before he opened the door. Outside, he found his friend cracking up and in the verge of tears “You are such an asshole oh my god! You almost give me a heart-attack!”

“I’m sorry!” The guy kept on laughing, almost unable to talk “It was too tempting!” 

Viktor, still struck by shock and with his shirt unbuttoned, tried to teach himself how to breathe again. He came back to his senses, and once he understood he was not in danger, he got himself busy attempting to look descent again, starting by cleaning a rather sticky hand. Well, at least the jolt had killed his hard-on. 

“We were in the middle of something, you know??” He could listen to Yuuri talking outside.

“I noticed” Phichit snorted “Anyways, I was just here to tell you they are about to announce king and queen, and maybe they’ll notice Viktor’s absence in the ceremony” 

“Oh”

Viktor made his way outside and looked around, checking for any extra presence in the hallway before he completely relaxed. 

“I should go, then” He said, beginning to walk away “You two should go within some few minutes so that…you know, no one suspects” 

“Wait!” Yuuri stopped him, grabbing him by the arm and spinning him around “Your hair looks…” He quickly fixed his messy fringe, sticking his tongue out with concentration “…kind of weird”

Viktor chuckled, stamping a quick peck on his lips once he was done, and swiftly turning around to leave. Phichit whistled in the background. 

“See you later”

He would have liked to stay for longer (much longer) but he didn’t want to cause any commotion. They’ll have to wait for later, once the party was over, and they were back at the privacy of his home.

Yuuri watched him run away, waving him goodbye as if he wasn’t going to see him again five minutes later, and grinned a bit to himself. He couldn’t help but thinking, as he saw the so call grown up clumsily skipping towards the gymnasium and trying to tuck his shirt into his pants, just how unexpected life could get.

Ever heard of the butterfly effect? Well, the Nikiforov effect seemed to have way more drastic consequences. 

If you had asked him a year ago where he would spend his prom night, he would have answered that rather at home, crying himself to sleep; or letting alcohol make him forget he was supposed to be somewhere else. And now there he was, right there at school, with his feet swollen from dancing and his lips from kissing. 

During that year, he had come out to his parents, to Mari, and to everyone at school. He had learnt the technique to all of the ice skating jumps, and even landed a double axel. He had improved his grades, prominently. He had bettered his drinking habits. He had become way more proud of his abilities as a dancer, and even dared to dance in public. He had faced his bullies. He had discovered he did embarrassing piggy noises whenever he laughed loud enough. He had come to terms with the people around him. And he had come to terms with himself. 

Of course not everything was a fairy tale. There was no glitter to sprinkle or magic wand that could change the shit he had been through. He had been ridiculed in public the day of his literature presentation; drunk until he almost lost consciousness and cried for hours; received quite a hard punch…on the face; put off dancing and skating for weeks because of a damned sprained wrist; and Vicchan. Vicchan was dead.

He was still an anxious person, of course, and bad things kept happening. But he felt stronger. For once he felt ready to face those mishaps, to take refuge in his affections, and be happy. He was happy. And he was not alone.

Out there, back at the gymnasium, he knew his friends were waiting for him. Friends, actual friends. Cheerful, kind and ready to hit the dancefloor. 

And back at home? A loving, caring family he no longer felt afraid of opening up to. 

And as soon as the party was over and everyone headed home, he knew a really familiar silver car was going to be waiting for him three cautious blocks away. A car, that belonged to a very special man; kind of childish but wonderful anyways, who would take him to his lovely apartment with his even more lovely poodle. And he would hold his hand, and they would chat and laugh and they would kiss, probably get naked, and cuddle closely until morning. 

Yuuri, for the first time, felt he was a lucky man.

Maybe he had always been, but it was the first time he ever noticed. 

“Hey, Yuuri” Phichit broke the silence. 

“What is it?” He asked, still in daze. 

“Your fly is open”

Well, maybe not so lucky.

By the time they returned to the gymnasium, Yurio was receiving a prize for the mural. As he opened the door, he found himself submerged in a wave of applause he could just vaguely merge on, since at first he didn’t understand what he was even clapping at. Only then he saw his friend on the stage, shaking hands with principal Minako and the crazy art teacher Georgi, as they handed him a small certificate Yuuri couldn’t quite read from where he was standing. It wasn’t really that hard to figure out what it said, though.

As the blond punk jumped down the stage he was received by a proud-looking Otabek , who gave him a gentle pat on the back. Yuuri noticed just how ecstatic Yurio seemed, with that wide smile on his face and his eyes fixed on his prize, and he saw him mumble something between the lines of “I can’t wait for my grandpa to see this”. 

Then came the time for the king and queen winners’ revelation, which was not a revelation at all, since everybody already knew who won. JJ and Isabella received both the crowns and the cheers with pride, and the speakers started playing that annoying song that sounded every time the quarterback did something remarkable: the Theme of King JJ. 

Yuuri sighed, the song still giving him cringes, but smiled nevertheless as he saw the king waving at him from up the stage. Apparently, the whole small dick rumor hadn’t been enough to dethrone him. And there he was, triumphant and as obnoxious as ever, doing that stupid JJ style thingy with his hands and hugging his girlfriend. He then proceeded to give a speech on how everything he ever won was thanks to her, only to kiss her on the mouth five seconds later and being kicked out of the stage by the principal. 

Well, at least things seemed to be good between those two.

After the party was over, Leo approached him told him his parents would pick him up and that they would also give Phichit and Guang-Hong a ride, and asked him if he wanted to be dropped at his house, too. But Yuuri declined the offer, saying he was leaving with someone else, and said goodbye to his friends for the night. Then, when he was sure no one would see him and question him about walking alone through the dark streets of the neighborhood, he left the school alone.

He needed no map to know where he was supposed to go. And, if he weren’t so naturally paranoid, then he wouldn’t even have to check if someone saw him. No one would follow him there. Three blocks away there was a dead end street, surrounded by nothing but residential buildings, that literally no one ever transited. It was kind of like the misdeed paradise, to be honest, since no one really batted an eye towards that place. Something like hell’s heaven, quite ironically. The perfect place for smuggling or drug dealing.

Or meeting up with your counselor for a romantic escapade. 

He jogged the last stretch, since the night’s chill wasn’t pitiful for his sweated shirt and he was starting to feel cold. The silver Audi was already there, as always, waiting for him with its lights off. Seeing the vehicle reminded him of the talk he had with his parents that afternoon, about the “risks of young driving”, and after he got over the cringe he remembered he was supposed to text his mom. She had asked him to text her twice, once the party was over and once he was safe at the other’s house, which he thought extremely unnecessary, but it wasn’t really a bother to comply. 

So, as Viktor opened the door for him, he didn’t quite look at him in the eye as he was too busy typing. 

“Who are you texting?” He asked, trying to catch a glimpse of the screen.

“My parents” Yuuri answered, absentmindedly, way too concentrated on the message “They wanted me to let them know once I was with you”

“They knew you would stay with me??” 

Fuck.

“Well…”

“Please tell me they don’t know” 

“No…” He trailed of, fidgeting with his fingers “…not all of it” 

Viktor bumped his head against the wheel, making the horn sound a quick, sudden beep before he turned to look at Yuuri again. Yuuri gulped, feeling the horror creeping up his spine. On the man’s face, there were the unmistakable outlines of the classical Nikiforov Angry Smile. 

No…not that smile! Anything but that smile!

He would have seriously preferred to be kicked out of the car than facing that smile! He knew for experience that it was nothing alike the dorky, heart-shaped smile that came with fun and glee. No. On the contrary. That face meant murder. 

“Yuuri…” Viktor said through gritted teeth, still smiling “Didn’t we say we would make it public AFTER the graduation??”

“I know, I’m sorry!” He apologized, covering his face with his bandaged hand, as if he could hide from the mortification and from _that smile_ “They don’t know you are my counselor, though! They just found out I’m seeing someone” 

Viktor sighed, not really relieved yet, massaging his temples with distress. 

“What are we going to do?? What if they see me at the graduation?? Once you introduce me to them they’ll know I was your counselor” 

Yuuri didn’t know what to say. Half because he really had no arguments on his defense, and half because he couldn’t believe Viktor had assumed he would introduce him to his parents at some point. What was he imagining? A formal “meet my date” dinner with his whole family? Would they be eating katsudon?

He was fantasizing to escape his problems once again, wasn’t he?

“My parents aren’t really attentive, to be honest. I think we’ll find a way for them not to notice” He looked away, not wanting to face the other’s possible anger “Maybe we could it put off a little bit, you know, so that they forget your face before they meet you again” 

“Or I could grow a beard and wear a hat and sunglasses at the graduation so that they don’t remember my face” 

Yuuri turned to look at him, the weight of an arched brow narrowing his left eye, as he tried to tell if he was actually being serious. 

“What??” 

“I’m joking, love” Viktor chuckled, rolling his eyes “Did you really fall for it?” 

He had been foolish. Viktor was never serious. 

“You are an idiot” He didn’t allow himself to laugh just yet, still stunned by the sudden change of mood as he sunk his face onto his hands. 

“An idiot? Me? Hey, I’m not the one who goes around spilling the beans” 

“I’m sorry” He mumbled, throwing his still covered face onto the other’s chest “I didn’t mean to, it slipped” 

“It’s ok, we just need to be more careful” Viktor caressed his shoulder soothingly, and Yuuri felt his chest shaking with a giggle “If anyone asks you can just say we met at a bar…which isn’t even a lie” 

They both voiced a tired, short laughter, which kind of felt longer as it echoed inside the car. It was late, but they were just too comfortable in there, leaning against each other. It was irrational to stay, since Viktor’s apartment was kindly waiting for them and their amorousness to show up already. But they just needed a moment. Especially Yuuri, who was still recovering from the fear of almost causing an argument. He was scared, terrified of ever making others angry, since he thought they might leave him forever and he’d be back to being lonesome. Even with Phichit, even at such a solid stage of friendship he was still reluctant of gainsaying him sometimes, afraid he would maybe get offended and stop talking to him. That was a phase of his anxiety he still needed to overcome, since he just couldn’t allow himself to take such a passive role in every relationship. He needed to feel more confident about other’s love for him.

Right then, however, with Viktor caressing him fondly, stress wasn’t late to slide away. That man seemed incapable of staying mad at him for too long.

“Does anyone in your family know?” He asked, still guilty, with word heaves threatening to burst out his mouth in some kind of apology “I mean, about us” 

“No way, I just told Christophe” 

“Yakov doesn’t know?” 

“I think he does, I didn’t tell him though. He might suspect, he just knows me too well…” He shrugged “and I kind of talk to him about you 24/7…you are kind of my only conversation topic lately” 

Yuuri laughed, detaching his face from his chest for a second to look up at him.

“Stop messing up with me”

“I’m not! I seriously talk about you a lot” Viktor kissed the top of his head, falling into a short silence before he talked again “I’m pretty sure Yurio knows though” 

This time both of them cracked up, totally aware it was true, and that it probably made the poor punk unmeasurably uncomfortable. 

“You should have heard my parents today, they were so hype” Yuuri said, nuzzling against the other’s shoulder “My mother kept insisting she wanted to meet you and stuff, and my father made fun of Mari since I got a boyfriend before she did and…”

“Boyfriend?” 

In that same second, as soon as his brain was able to process Viktor’s words had just been an echo of his own; and that it had been him, in fact, who used that sinful term; Yuuri almost threw himself through the windshield. Every drop of his blood must have been storing in his cheeks, since his limps suddenly felt cold and numb and his face was so hot Greenpeace could blame him for global warming. His heart was beating so hard and fast he was afraid it would dismantle his ribcage as he tried to give an excuse. But there was no excuse he could possibly give.

“NO! I mean…! I don’t think…! I didn’t mean to…!” He stuttered, looking everywhere but Viktor’s perplexed eyes “It was my father who used that word!” 

But before he could keep faltering useless pretexts and bury himself deeper in a pit of dishonor and mortification, he felt a gentle hand stroking his cheek. As he looked upwards, narrowing his eyes as not to be blinded by Viktor’s disappointment, it wasn’t disappointment what he actually saw. It was pure adoration.

The man leaned in and before he knew it there was a mouth on his, giving him a tender, chaste kiss.

“I like that word” He said, giggling to himself “I like it a lot”

Yuuri swallowed a mouthful of air. 

“You do?” 

“Of course I do, my lovely _boyfriend_ ” 

One could have thought he was mocking him, but he really wasn’t. He was just tasting the word, rolling it through his tongue, not wanting to munch on it or swallow for it to last as long as possible. He didn’t want the sweet flavor to fade away.

For Yuuri though, it wasn’t the same. It still felt sweet, but it got his mouth to tingle. Almost like sour candy. Really, REALLY sour candy, that had his lips sucked inwards and his eyes slightly watering. 

“So…it’s official, then?” He asked, timidly. 

“I had kind of assumed it already was” 

Yuuri chortled, still embarrassed, but deciding to push the shame away for the moment and kiss his _boyfriend_ wantonly. Wow, he could really think of it that way now. He was kissing his _boyfriend_ , caressing his _boyfriend_ , breathing the same air as his _boyfriend_ , all inside his _boyfriend’s_ car. And oops, he was suddenly sitting on his _boyfriend’s_ lap.

His _boyfriend_ though, didn’t put any objections. 

Viktor grinned onto the kiss, sliding his hands under the other’s shirt again, repeating the actions he had initiated no more than some few hours ago. 

“Once we get home…” He whispered into his ear, casually pausing to leave a trail of kisses down his neck “…could I try to make love to you, for the second time this night?” 

Yuuri pulled away to look at him, snorting.

“Viktor, you weren’t going to make love to me. You almost fucked me against a desk”

Viktor’s hands kept wandering as he chortled, restless, going up and down his back and stroking his face, needing more of his warm skin.

“Hmm, but I was going to do it with lots of love”

Yuuri rolled his eyes, hugging him once again.

“Yeah, sure…let’s go already”

When Yuuri woke up the next morning, naked and heavy with slumber, the first thing he instinctively attempted to do was reaching out for Viktor. He was still half-unconscious, breath even and lids sealed with sticky sleep, needing the physical contact with something foreign to the silky hug of bedsheets, so that he could get a grasp of reality and fully exit dreamland. He was expecting Viktor’s cozy torso to do the trick, but what he actually found as he stretched his needy hands, was nothing but an empty space. 

He growled, unpleased, patting everywhere across the mattress in the hunt for warm, breathing flesh but he found nothing. Instead, what got him to open his eyes in the end was nothing but the certain disappointment, and the need to look around in the search for his partner. He wasn’t there, not even in the same room, and the bedsheets were already cold in his place so he assumed he had left a long while ago. 

Getting up so early hadn’t been part of his plans, at all. All he wanted to do was shelter himself with the covers up to the chin and go back to soundly sleep. But he couldn’t do what without his giant teddy bear. The bed felt too cold…and too big! Who was he supposed to tangle his legs with if Viktor wasn’t there??

Rubbing his eyes and blindly searching for some clothing, he stumbled across his underwear somewhere on the floor. That seemed to be enough. He put it on, clumsily, having trouble to find the hole to stick his leg through now that he wasn’t wearing his glasses. He hadn’t brought them with him, since he had been wearing his contacts, and he had taken them out before he went to bed. He couldn’t see shit. And sleep wasn’t helpful, either, putting unnecessary weight to body and making every movement as thrice as difficult. 

He hauled himself out from the room, dragging his feet against the cold wooden floor, and using the wall as some sort of guide as not to bump against anything. He wondered what time it was, but it couldn’t be late enough. He was still tired, his body begged for him to go back to bed and charge energies for a few more hours. But he was already standing, and he wouldn’t go back without his boyfriend.

As soon as he stepped onto the living room, he heard the monotonous, distinctive sound of typing, and followed it blindly towards Viktor’s working desk. There he was. Slowly, still not fully awake, he let his body act on primal instincts and merely reach for the source of heat, which was the busy figure sitting in front of him, way too focused in his writing.

The man didn’t react to the sudden touch, he just flinched a bit with surprise, since he hadn’t heard him approaching, but that didn’t disturb his work. He kept on keying, determined to at least finishing the sentence before he attempted a “good morning”. 

Yuuri hugged him close from behind and nuzzled against his neck, enjoying the human heat, since it reminded him to the bed he so desperately needed right then. He noticed Viktor was drinking coffee, and that was maybe how he managed to keep his brain functioning at such unholy early hours. What time was it, even? Narrowing his eyes, making a way too hard effort and wishing for the planets to align, he wished for sleep and his sight-issues to let him focus on the laptop’s watch. 

“Hmm, Viktor” He whined, upset “What are you doing awake at 8:25 in the morning?? Come back to bed!” 

Viktor chuckled, fingers still busy, but he actually took a second to turn around and give his boyfriend a noisy kiss on the cheek, to which Yuuri didn’t even react. He was kind of falling asleep on him. 

“I’m sorry love, go back without me” Insomnia had actually given him quite a good practice on how to behave awake with barely no hours of sleep, so he was feeling alright. Plus, he was glad that the only thing he ever used his kitchen for was making coffee. That thing was miraculous “I’m working on something” 

“Come back” Yuuri mumbled, not really listening to him, planting kisses all over his neck and exposed shoulder, since his t-shirt was kind of old and baggy and it fell from one side “It’s too early” 

Considering they had gone to bed at around 3:30 AM the previous night, he had all the right to be tired. Well, they had gone to bed earlier…but they didn’t precisely used it to sleep. Prom and sex were both quite exhausting activities and Yuuri needed more rest. But, apparently, that wasn’t Viktor’s case.

He untied one of Yuuri’s hands from the hug around his neck, and took it to his lips to quickly kiss it. Then he tangled his fingers with his, and turned his head to laugh at just how sleepy and grumpy the other looked, all sprawled on top of him.

“Sorry, I’m busy”

The sleeping beauty whined again, letting go from Viktor’s hold and sitting on his leg instead, looking at the screen too. If his boyfriend was abandoning him for a piece of work, he was at least going to try to find out what it was. However, it wasn’t really easy to read when the bright light of the monitor hurt his eyes and when he didn’t even have his glasses. 

“What is it that you are working on?” He asked, grabbing the mug of coffee without permission and taking it to his own gluey lips, which still tasted like slumber. 

“I’m writing an article” 

“An article?” 

“Yeah” He didn’t complain about the coffee stealing business, but he did take the mug out from the guilty fingers to take a gulp himself “I’ve been thinking about some stuff for a while, about everything I experienced at that school, and I thought it’d be good to put it into words”

“What is it about?”

Viktor stopped typing for once, rereading the last written sentence, and skimming through the rest of the paragraph to check if it sounded good. It did. 

“About adolescence, about how students are alone and no one gives a shit about what happens to them” He answered, trying to keep it simple, so that a just-out-from-bed mind could understand “There are a lot of things about nowadays’ educational system that I want to question” 

“That’s really interesting” Yuuri spoke with full honesty, still trying to read something but failing miserably “And also very real. What are you planning to do with it once you finish it?” 

“I’m not sure, maybe share it on social media and stuff”

“Hmm, we should leave that to Phichit” They both laughed “I’m pretty sure he’ll make it go viral”

“Yeah, that sounds good” Viktor said, looking back at the screen and putting his fingers back to action “But I need to finish it first” 

“Ok” Yuuri gave up, standing up from his lap, and deciding he should make some more coffee for both. Lots of coffee “I’ll be at the kitchen” 

After a while, Viktor heard the kettle beeping, indicating the water had already boiled. However, no one seemed to be there to turn it off. It kept making noise, distracting him, and he couldn’t concentrate on his writing. 

“Yuuri, the kettle!” He tried to call his attention, but he received no reply and the damn thing kept making noise “Yuuri!” 

No answer.

Giving up, he stood up from his seat with a loud sigh, walking towards the kitchen to make the kettle shut up for once. He looked around, wondering where Yuuri had gone and why wasn’t he reacting neither to the beeping nor to the calling of his name, maybe he was taking a shower. But when the annoying noise finally ceased as he put out the hob’s flame, yet another even sound suddenly made its presence in the room. It was snoring. 

As he turned around, he saw Yuuri soundly asleep on top of the kitchen’s table, drooling over the tablecloth.

“CONGRATULATIONS!!” 

Just how many times was he going to hear that in one day?

He knew he was supposed to be happy, I mean, it was his graduation’s day! But after a while of way too many people approaching him, and having to wear that damn, stupid gown, he kind of wanted it to end. Did it make him look fat?? He wasn’t sure, but the hat was beginning to make she back of his ears itch a little bit and he wanted to take it out…only his father insisted he should keep it on for the pictures. 

Giving that man a camera for his birthday had been a terrible idea.

“Ok, one more photo with your mother. But now, I want you to show your diploma at the camera!” How many different angles of the same picture did he need?? “Hiroko! Smile wider!” 

Yuuri’s face hurt. And so did his shoulder, since everyone seemed fond of giving congratulating pats there. The first ones where ok, it wasn’t a problem at all, but after the twentieth one…

“Yuuri!” Takeshi appeared out of nowhere, patting him right at the sore spot with enviable accuracy (and with much more force than necessary)“There you are, my favorite ex-employee!” 

“Favorite??” A familiar female voice complained from behind “What about me, your own fiancé?? I’m offended!” 

“Yuuko!” Yuuri greeted, opening his arms as he saw the girl jumped in for a bone-crushing hug. Well, at least she didn’t pat his shoulder…she was original “You came!” 

“Of course I did! Congratulations!” 

He was genuinely grateful for Takeshi and Yuuko’s presence; they were almost family. Phichit and the others weren’t on their last year, so they really had no business in the ceremony. They had promised to drop by at the small celebration afterwards, though, but he would have to wait for that. Of all the people he kind of tolerated, only Sara was graduating with him. He could see her in the distance, taking a picture with Michele at the front of the school’s entrance, making funny faces at the camera. Maybe he should ask her to take a photo with him later on, so that they could keep as a memory, since a part of him didn’t want that girl to forget him. 

He felt the sudden, paranoid need to look around. More specifically: to look around for Viktor.

The man had been sitting at the front seats the whole ceremony, together with the other teachers, trying his best not to be seen by Yuuri’s parents. Fortunately, he hadn’t stuck to his promise of growing out a beard, but he still was acting suspiciously cautious and other teachers were beginning to notice something was off. Yet, Hiroko and Toshiya were totally oblivious to his existence, and that was all he really cared about. 

Mari kept insisting she wanted to meet him and check if he was even hotter in person. Yuuri joked about her having to keep her harpy, predator claws away from his man, but he wasn’t really joking. If destiny was pious enough those two wouldn’t meet until he introduced Viktor to the family officially. 

He continued to talk for a while with Yuuko and Takeshi, the later kept mentioning just how much trouble he was having trying to replace Yuuri at the Ice Castle. Yes, he had quitted. But only because he needed a better salary now that he was starting his studies. Books and materials were expensive, and he didn’t want his parents to pay for everything. He was definitely going to miss the ice rink though, he enjoyed working there. And he would certainly miss having Yuuko around.

His parents insisted he should take a picture with all of the teachers, which was embarrassing. He had loathed most of them through all of those years, and he kind of didn’t want to stand close to them for the picture, nor keep the thing as a memory of his hatred. The only one he really wanted to take a picture with, was principal Minako. And he did. He gather the courage to ask her for a photo, a close one, way more personal than the one his father had already taken when she handed him his diploma. And she agreed, smirking contently, since she kind of had a soft spot for him. 

“Well done, kid. You did it, you are out from this hellhole” She said, shaking his hand quite forcefully. Fortunately, his wrist wasn’t spraint anymore.

“Thanks, I guess” He didn’t really know what to say to that.

“By the way, have you seen Viktor?”

Yuuri stiffened, looking around cautiously to check if his parents were still around, but luckily they were distracted somewhere else, talking with Yuuko.

“Uhm…no??” He said, trying not to look too suspicious “Why do you ask, though?”

“I don’t know, you seem to talk to him quite a lot” She shrugged, unaware of the calamities she was implying “Last time I saw him he was walking towards the backyard”

“The backyard?”

“Yeah, I don’t know what business he has there, but I need him to come back. The fucker escaped the preparations for the ceremony, just like he did with prom, and now I want him to at least help with the cleaning” She kept looking around, not giving up on finding him “Could you please go look for him?”

“Yeah, I guess I could”

Of course he could. 

“Great, thanks Katsuki” 

He had not the remotest idea of what could that man possibly be doing alone at the backyard. The ceremony had been held on the front, and the rest of the school was supposed to be empty or something! He was way too random, so Yuuri had learnt to just stop trying to guess his intentions. 

Nevertheless, predicting the unpredictable, Yuuri hadn’t been ready to find him alone, sitting against a wall, playing some stupid game on his cellphone. 

“Viktor?”

At the sound of his name the man seemed lost. Like he had been woken up from a profound dream and now he was trying to figure out where he was. Maybe he had been deep in thought. 

“Yuuri? What are you doing here?”

“That’s my line” He answered, giving him a hand to stand up “Minako’s looking for you”

“Oh, I just wanted to escape the other teachers, they were being nosy about me leaving the job next year…and also I was hiding from your parents”

Yuuri couldn’t help but laugh, although he knew it hadn’t really been a joke. Had Viktor really taken the whole “don’t let my parents see you” mission so seriously? 

“You are so extra” He mocked, trying not to laugh too hard.

“And you are mean”

“Sorry” He wanted to hug him, to tell him he loved just how much of a dork he was, but he couldn’t take the risk of being caught “How are you doing, though? I wasn’t even able to greet you today” 

“Disappointed” 

Yuuri’s brows jumped, 

“Disappointed?” He asked “Why?”

Viktor crossed his arms, looking like an angry child about to throw a tantrum.

“Because I still hadn’t got a job, because the ceremony was boring as hell, because you are graduating and I can’t even hug you and scream just how proud I am, and because that stupid gown hides your glorious butt” 

Yuuri didn’t even know where to start. 

“Well, first of all, stop whining, you’ll find something, you still have time so don’t stress out. Secondly, the ceremony is already over, so you don’t need to complain anymore. Thirdly, tomorrow we’ll see each other just like we planned and you’ll hug me as much as you want…and I promise not to wear the gown”

Viktor chuckled, his eyes still looking quite sad, but not aloof anymore. They were fixed on his boyfriend, on his attire, on the diploma he was still holding in hand. Damn, he should act cheerier; this was supposed to be a happy moment for him, after all. He shouldn’t ruin it with his stupid drama. 

“I…” However, when he was about to properly congratulate him, he was interrupted by the abrupt burst of his ringtone. 

After dealing with the heart attack he almost had, he took the phone out from his pocket and gave it a questioning look, almost offended, as if the devise could feel sorry for cutting him off. 

“Who is it?” Yuuri asked.

“Unknown number” Viktor said, still looking at the thing, debating if he should answer or not. After all, he was in the middle of something else. 

“Pick up, it’s ok” 

He sighed, pressing the green button on the screen and taking it to his ear. He instinctively walked away from Yuuri, as if his conversation on the phone would interrupt something else. But it wasn’t the case, the guy was left alone, and the disruption had already been made. 

“Hello? Yes, I am Viktor Nikiforov” 

Yuuri sighed, leaning against the wall, noticing how the man seemed to be unable to stay still as he talked on the phone. He was naturally restless, he knew, and couldn’t stop moving like an idiot. But well, that was just Viktor.

He saw him arch a brow, as if he were confused for a moment, but after a second his eyes widened, almost as open as his agape mouth, and he nearly dropped the phone. 

“Yes! Yes, absolutely!” He exclaimed, making a pause to hear the other’s voice “I’m a communications graduate”

Was it a job offer? Yuuri had witnessed some few other calls about the matter, but they were all about applications he had filled blindly, and he wasn’t really interested. Plus, if this was a job he had applied for…why did he seem so surprised all of a sudden? None of the forms he filled had managed to take his breath away like this.

“Next Tuesday at 17 hs?? Perfect, I’m free!” He wasn’t free, Yuuri knew Makkachin had a vet appointment that day. He had asked him to come along “Thank you so much, madam” 

With one final thanking, Viktor ended the phone call. But he kept looking at the screen, at the register that proved the conversation had actually happened, trying to let it sink into his thunderstruck brain. 

Yuuri cleared his throat, trying to bring him back to his senses, and the man looked at him with diminutive pupils, shook like a deer in headlights.

“Who was it??” He asked, walking forwards.

“It was a publishing company” The answer came out as a whisper, as if not even his voice could believe what he was saying “They read my article” 

“Holy shit and what did they say?? Do they want to publish it??” 

“No” Viktor managed to let out though the air clogging his throat, and Yuuri let his hopes down for a second “They want me to write a whole book” 

He looked up at him, jaw dropping.

“What???” 

“It’s true!” Viktor covered his own mouth, jumping up and down, excitement finally able to show through his shock “Oh my god, Yuuri! They are going to pay me to write a whole book!!” 

Yuuri was taken aback, speechless. He hadn’t realized he had been holding his breath, his chest stuffing air like growing balloon. A balloon that had suddenly popped at the sight of blue watery eyes, almost as filled with disbelief as his own. 

“But what did they say?? How did they contact you??” 

“I don’t know where they got my number from…but apparently they saw the amount of likes the article had and read through the comments and decided that my experience here could be interesting to the public or something! I can’t believe it got so viral, bless Phichit, fuck! I’m…”

“Holy shit, congratulations!” 

It was hard for Yuuri’s mind to become blank, that should be clear for anyone by now. But right then, as he threw himself on Viktor’s arms with a jump, almost as if he were diving into the momentum, he wasn’t thinking of anything. Nothing. At all. 

He wasn’t thinking about the fact maybe it wouldn’t be so easy to write a whole book. He wasn’t thinking about the sound of ripping cloth his gown made with the abrupt movement. He wasn’t thinking of Minako, waiting for them in the front, probably wondering where they were. And he wasn’t even thinking about the chance of being caught.

No.

Right then, nothing else mattered.

He didn’t care about the rest of the world, it was monotonous and trivial. But Viktor’s smile…that was something he was sure he hadn’t seen in a lifetime. Sure, he had of course seen him happy, and happier, before…but never so genuinely excited, with his lips quivering and his eyes bright with the intensity of a kid’s. Viktor was fun and cheerful, but that didn’t mean he was a happy man. He had been through a lot, he had experienced losses and deceptions that had wrecked his childhood and still kept him up at nights. He had devoted the last year of his life to make every student of Hasetsu High School as content and pleased as possible, when maybe it was him who needed a hand after all. And even though Yuuri made everything possible to help him out, there were some things that still exceeded his control. 

Getting him a job was one of those things.

And after almost a month of useless applications, of late night tears and uncertain, irresolute smiles…Viktor looked as ecstatic and delighted as ever, exposing a full grin with pride and all his white, perfect teeth. 

“ _Yuuri! Where are you?? We are leaving, honey!_ ” Hiroko’s scream in the distance made them pull away immediately “ _Yuuri?? _”__

__“Fuck” He giggled, getting off from his former counselor and fixing his gown, not before leaving a gentle caress on the side of his face “I should probably get going, they’ll find us in any second”_ _

__“Wait!” Viktor stopped him, grabbing his sleeve “There’s something we need to do first”_ _

__Yuuri grimaced, puzzled, not really understanding what could he possibly be forgetting about. There wasn’t much they could do right then, honestly, since someone could appear from any corner and catch them red-handed. If he was insinuating they should do something alike what happened at his office during the prom night, then he would certainly have to decline._ _

__But that didn’t seem to be the case._ _

__Standing straightly, clearing his throat and drawing a face so solemn it almost felt foreign, Viktor stretched his hand out from him._ _

__It took some full seconds for Yuuri to understand it was a hand-shake invitation, but he didn’t really respond even as he realized. Instead, he mutely asked for explanation, looking at the hidden heat beneath the now cold expression in Viktor’s eyes._ _

__“This is the end, isn’t it?” The man said, confusing him even further “Once you leave now, I won’t be your counselor anymore”_ _

__Yuuri wanted to laugh, since that could be nothing but yet another example of Viktor’s foolish humor. But he couldn’t quite seem to find his laughter._ _

__He stared at him, then down at his hand, and then at him again. It was stupid, he knew, but he kind of couldn’t bring himself to shake that hand. He didn’t want to. He didn’t want it to end, even though it didn’t mean the end of their relationship at all…he never thought he would eventually have to abandon the role as the student._ _

__That was how everything had started, after all. And even though he knew that man couldn’t even boil an egg, that he could barely call himself an adult, and that Yuuri himself was probably more mature than him...it felt off to break with the characters. It made him nostalgic, and it made him sad. It made him really, really sad._ _

__But that had been a year of changes. Viktor, as a counselor, had entered his life and made a cocoon, only to come out as something rather different in the end. Much more intense, much more beautiful. In his office, under the title of Mr.Nikiforov, he had built him a nest, a place of warmness and support, where Yuuri had learnt to feel safe and confident, and had learnt how to breathe. How to inhale, how to exhale, how to feel alive and not just living, not just letting time carry him away to its will. No. Yuuri had grown stronger, had grown braver, and felt ready to face whatever life brought._ _

__He was ready to leave that place, that secure shelter under Viktor’s wing._ _

__The time had come for him to grow up._ _

__Smiling fondly, he took the offer and firmly grasped his hand, not breaking eye contact for a second._ _

__Viktor looked pleased, tightening his hand around his, proudly abandoning his part. He didn’t need it anymore, because Yuuri didn’t need him anymore. At least, not as a counselor._ _

__“It was a pleasure meeting you, Katsuki” He said, feeling a weight he didn’t even know he had been carrying suddenly lifting away from his shoulders._ _

__“The pleasure was mine, Mr. Nikiforov” The answer was slow, gentle, almost prolonged on purpose “Thank you, for everything”_ _

__Yuuri let go._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WAIT DON'T LEAVE ME JUST YET THERE'S MORE!!! 
> 
> I'm still going to wirte an epilogue! so...stay tuned I guess? THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR EVERYONE WHO LEAVES COMENTS AND KUDOS. Did I just waste 5 months of my life writing this piece of shit? Yes, yes I did. I hope I at least managed to make some people happy or enteretained...I put my soul into this crap.
> 
> Aaaanyways, no one cares about me here, you want more Victuuri, don't you? Me too, so after the epilogue I will probably leave the link to a tumblr blog I'll probably create, so that I can keep posting about this AU and also maybe canon stuff or other AUs, idk, whatever you want, I'm a people-pleaser *insert shrug emoji here*
> 
> Well...thank you for everything, I love you all.


	12. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is the end...  
> But WAIIIIIIIT WAIT WAIT WAIT! DON'T LEAVE ME JUST YET I STILL LOVE YOU(? Ok I created a tumblr blog...I'll post Victuuri...and maybe if you request something I can write it...and I'll answer questions too!   
> https://life-love-and-alcohol.tumblr.com/   
> see you there! and thanks for all the support!

_Stretch, fold, closet._

_Stretch, fold, closet._

_Stretch, fold, closet._

_Stretch…_

_Frown._

_Sniff._

_Laundry basket._

_Stretch, fold, closet…_

That had been Yuuri’s sole functioning for the past hour: unpacking a bundle of old, tangled shirts; judging their hygiene and their decency; folding them, and tucking them tidily into the drawers. It had become almost mechanical by then, with the exception of a few hand-knitted sweaters that brought some home-sickness, and the occasional complaints about the lack of space in the closet. Having to share a wardrobe with that man was a nightmare, gosh, just how many tracksuits could someone possibly need??

He had to hurry up, it was getting dark outside and he hadn’t even finished with his clothing yet. Just how much did he have to unpack? Cosmetics and medicines were already in the bathroom, as well as his personal toothbrush and his contact lenses, neatly tucked in the mirror’s cabinet. What else? Some of his books and CDs (his favorite ones) were now on one of the living room’s bookcases, right on the second shelf, that had been especially emptied for him. Oh, also there were way more cooking utensils in the kitchen’s drawers now. Since, from that moment on, someone who actually used them would be living in the apartment. 

Yuuri sighed, thinking of just how much time he was wasting with the whole moving, precious studying time all going down the drain after a whole day fully dedicated to emptying suitcases. Finals were just around the corner! Psychopathology was driving him insane! It was one of the hardest, yet more interesting subjects he had had so far…which was confusing! Since in one hand he wanted to keep reading, and on the other hand he wanted to incinerate every existing textbook and then himself. It was life-consuming, and he certainly had no time to lose with all that stupid clothing! 

Out from a plastic bag, he carefully took out his dancing shoes. Those didn’t go in the closet; he used them daily now that he was giving dancing lessons, so they had no time to rest in a drawer. He simply left them by his backpack, the one he usually carried his stuff in when he bounced from college to the dancing studio to his house on a daily basis. His time schedule was rather crowded, with studying during the mornings, classes in the afternoon, and working later on in the evenings. He returned home exhausted, and just in time for dinner, since he also had a one-hour trip there. College and the dancing studio were just some few blocks away from each other, but his house was no way near and he had sold his soul to public transport. Thankfully, his new residence was some minutes nearer. Yet it was still an arduous routine. 

He had decided to move-in during a Saturday, since his weekends were free and much more relaxed, and take his time to accommodate his stuff properly. He never thought it would take him the whole day though! He was almost done, just some few more shirts and he would move to the underwear section, which was the last thing he had left.

However, as he reached the bottom of the suitcase, he pulled out something he wasn’t really expecting to find. 

He almost froze when his fingers caught the texture of netted cloth, all wrinkled and crumpled up in a corner, shyly, as if aware of its accidental presence. 

He didn’t need to look at it to know what it was. The sequins embroiled to it already gave it away, and Yuuri was almost scared to acknowledge the obvious. What was it doing there?? How did it get into the suitcase?? He had probably thrown it in together with a jumbled ball of clothes he hadn’t even bothered to inspect. He hadn’t meant to. He hadn’t meant to bring it. And he hadn’t meant to keep it. It was from a dark part of his life, after all. Almost as dark as the silky cloth that now furrowed in his fingers, manifesting as some sort prophecy, a reminder of an era he had vowed to forget about. 

He stood up, with a nostalgic, yet determinate look on his eyes, taking off his current shirt. 

He had been to The Madmen Cage during the past few years, he had made some friends at the bar, and ruled the dancefloor like he always did. Music was and would always be his greatest escape. Whenever he finished an overly-stressing week (and whenever his tight schedule allowed him), there was nothing he enjoyed the most than making his way to the familiar club. Everyone knew him there already, and it made him feel at ease. He even took Phichit along once, since he wanted to know how a gay bar was. Yuuri loved to go every now and then, trying new cocktails and new dance moves, and talking to Celestino for a while.

But right then, as he put on the old shirt and stared at himself in the bedroom’s mirror, it wasn’t exactly Yuuri he was looking at. 

He ran his fingers through his own hair and pushed his fringe away from his face. Yet, since he wasn’t using water or gel, it didn’t really stay in place. He had to keep his hand there styling it, and use the other one to remove his glasses, so that he could search for something in the now blurry, unclear reflection. Search for something, or rather someone.

Looking back at him from across the mirror, wearing a see-through, embroiled tank-top, was no one but the long forgotten Eros, young and wild, so desperate and lonely. 

He felt a shiver crossing him from the icy skin of his naked toes all the way to his lips, were it exited like quivery, cold exhale. That was a reunion he certainly wasn’t expecting. Not right there, in the comfort of his new home. And yet there he was, so close and yet so far, trapped inside the glass.

He might have been short-sided, but he didn’t need his glasses to tell he looked different. He looked so distant, so foreign to his own persona, he couldn’t even believe they used to share a skin.

What’s wrong, old friend? Why the long face? Why the bags under your eyes? Why the paleness? Why the bites of a thousand no-ones marking your skin? Why the tears? Why are you so scared? 

Eros had been buried for a reason, he was irrational and reckless, uncaring, a basket case that lived on alcohol and the euphoria of being wanted. But Eros was also a child. A lonely child, who had sold his innocence for a bit of calm, for a moment away from all the voices in his head. Eros had been just a kid, and Eros had been scared.

Life can be stressful when you don’t fear the future, right? It means you are way too frightened of the present to concentrate on what has to come. But fear not, lovely past, you’ll get over it. You’ll get over yourself. 

“Yuuri! Babe, I’m back! Where are you? Are you done with your stuff?” He had been so concentrated in the mirror he hadn’t even heard the front door. Only with the happy barks of Makkachin he realized he wasn’t alone anymore, but it was too late for him to react, and the door to the bedroom was already creaking open “Yuuri? Are you in here? I was wondering if you-”

Viktor was unable to finish the sentence, as he ran across someone he had thought dead. 

Yuuri gave no response, no explanation, and definitely no excuse. He didn’t have one, after all. It had been his choice to put on that shirt, to dress up as the pain and the mistakes he had committed as a teen, and bring that phantom back to life. He wasn’t expecting to be seen, he had just tried it on for himself, to fulfill some wicked sort of nostalgia, and deal with it alone. But there he was, dealing with yet another pair of eyes on him, and trying to figure out what to say on his defense 

However, as he was about to take it off, he noticed Eros didn’t seem to have the same effect on Viktor.

Before he could find his voice, the other’s hands were already tightly wrapped around his waist, and his mouth firmly pressed against his.

He responded, of course, being no prey of shock, since after all that time he was already used to Viktor’s impulsiveness. He had known exactly what was coming as soon as he saw him approaching, with that stuck expression of determination in his face and his pupils widened with awe. Yuuri had been foolish, to forget Eros was still Eros, in the end. Eros still had the power to bring everyone to their knees, he was still as intoxicating and mesmerizing, with that ridiculous aura of seduction around him. And Eros had always had, and always would have, Viktor eating from the palm of his hand.

“I thought the book-signing thingy lasted a few more hours” He hummed, running his fingers through strands of silver hair, breathing so close to his neck he was basically inhaling his perfume “Were you so eager to see me?” 

Viktor took a deep breath, running his hands through every possible path on the other’s back, as if trying to register it was an actual, flesh and bone person, and not just a mirage. 

“I’m so shook right now” He didn’t answer the question, he wasn’t on his right mind to do so “Who are you and what did you do to my boyfriend?” 

Yuuri chuckled, taking the other’s shell-shocked state as a chance to unbutton his shirt and tuck his hands inside, leaving wanton caresses and tingles though every corner of his skin and reaching upwards to plant kisses all the way down his jaw. 

“Hmm…I believe we met before” He rolled on with the scene, feeling the vibrations of moans against his lips as he sucked at Viktor’s throat.

“Oh? So you didn’t forget about me?”

Yuuri locked eyes with him, brown getting lost in light blue, and he wondered how such an icy shade could possibly look so smothering and warm.

“I could never forget about you”

The hands grabbing him by the hips, grip desperate and wanton, abandoned their place to hold him by the back of his thighs instead, easily lifting him up from the ground for him to wrap his legs around his waist. In no second he was softly thrown onto the bed, laughing merrily as he bounced against the mattress, and saw Viktor climbing on top of him. 

Another kiss. This time, gentler. 

His fringe tickled his face as their mouths merged, slowly and thoroughly, cupping each other’s face and bringing them close. Viktor’s lips were soft on his, a way too delicate intrusion, and yet so vast, so fulfilling and overwhelming Yuuri’s blood might have boiled. He traced his fingers through his cheeks, his neck, his hair, wanting to feel all at once, wishing he could grow more and more hands to keep touching, feeling, claiming what he knew was his. 

Viktor chuckled as they pulled away, taking in the dazed look on his partner’s face, the messed up hair, and the obvious desire for more. 

“So…” He said, stroking his face with his thumb, resting his forehead on his so that their noses touched, and their mouths were barely centimeters apart “Is it going to be one of those nights?” 

Yuuri smiled, forgetting about the studying all of a sudden, and feeling the other’s gaze so strongly on him he thought it might burn. He leaned in for another kiss, chaste and sweet, detaching himself from Eros’ ego for a second, falling victim of his profound adoration once again. This was nothing like that time at the bar, this was deeper, way heavier with memory; and they both new that in reality, Eros was long gone. But they couldn’t bring themselves to forget him. 

Since, after all, Eros had been the one who introduced the two lovers that night at The Madmen Cage. And they had never been apart since then.

“I guess it will”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thanks for those who leave kudos and comments that make my day. I really enjoyed writing this story and it will take me a while to get over it tbh hahaha It's just so long, damn...it was supposed to be 3 chapters long when I first thought about it....damn. I have no self-control.

**Author's Note:**

> ....I have no excuses, I'm sorry.  
>  I'll update as soon as possible, probably really soon, since I'm so excited about this XD If you have any questions I'm life-love-and-alcohol on tumblr yayy!
> 
> Please leave a comment, I'm desperate.


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